


Dulce Noche

by martinslawyer



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Gang shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Team as Family, When will I learn to tag, did i say panicked helsi and confident martín? well i LIED, helsi is a panicked gay, martín is a confident gay, no editing we die like men, the au no one asked for and yet here we are, you know where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25530817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinslawyer/pseuds/martinslawyer
Summary: All he had wanted to do was work a part time job to support himself while working night shifts at the hospital.he never imagined the rag tag group of students who worked with him would be something resembling a family.he never imagined he would fall so quickly for the regular customer with the big grin and floppy hair.life was strange like that, though, wasn’t it?
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Bogotá/Nairobi | Ágata Jiménez, Helsinki | Mirko Dragic & Nairobi | Ágata Jiménez, Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 82
Kudos: 94





	1. the start of something beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO HELLO HELLO! 
> 
> welcome to the coffee shop/college au no one needed or asked for! 
> 
> just a few things before you start reading:
> 
> \- everyone except moscow has been aged down to fit the au  
> \- “canon” het relationships are still the same, some are established and some are in development as the story progresses.  
> \- i’ll mention their majors as i go so bear with me  
> -i’ve never been a barista so everything i do here is bullshitted from watching too many korean café vlogs lmao  
> i think that’s it for now? feel free to ask me anything in the replies 
> 
> enjoy💖

**_Mirko_ **

****

If anyone asked Mirko what it was like to work in Dulce Noche while juggling night shifts as a nursing student, and classes in the morning, he would have a lot of answers to give; tiring, hectic, chaotic, etc.

But the truthful answer was that it was fulfilling.

It was pure chance that he saw an online ad for a new café looking for employees in the form of international students looking for a part time job.

He went to visit the site the next day, and instantly felt at home in this small venue, decorated to give a homely feel.

After meeting the manager of the place, a short older man with curly hair and a warm smile, he mused about how the café’s interior looks like a manifestation of the manager’s personality; warm, comforting, and gave a feeling of home away from home.

Perfect environment for international students.

The café policy, the man told him, was that everyone went by names of cities, instead of their real names.

It stemmed from the fact that he had always wanted to travel the world, but he never had the means to.

But now, he can fit the whole world in his little café.

Mirko felt for the man, who went by Moscow, and decided to do his best and maybe, just maybe, the business could do well enough one day that enables him to fulfill his dream.

Moscow’s son, who went by Denver, was a theater major, second year. He was a spirited young man, full of life and laughter. Always quick to joke, and quicker to get smacked on the head by his father.

Mirko liked watching them while he worked, reminded him of his cousin, Radko, who was serving in the military.

He was the closest family Mirko had ever had.

A few days after starting work, more employees started clocking in; Marseille came first, a tall, blonde, Croatian veterinary student who looked as if he was an assassin for hire but turned out to have the best sense of humor. Then came Nairobi, his darling Nairobi, a thin, tall, goddess of a young woman who majored in business with a sharp wit and sharper tongue, and she had no trouble using it to put people in their places. Then came Bogotá, the receiver of much of Nairobi’s tongue lashings, much to his amusement. He was a tall, broad shouldered, dark haired and kind eyed Armenian mechanical engineering student who had a fatherly disposition despite his young age, which he direct mostly at denver and the other café resident, denver’s childhood friend Rio. Rio wasn’t an employee, being a high school student, but he got a city name and spent his free time in the café anyway. He would mostly be seen doing his homework with the help of Bogotá or Nairobi.

Mirko understood nothing about computer science and the projects Rio worked on so he steered clear.

Rio’s presence in the Café everyday solved a problem that was a deciding factor in employing Marseille, he would watch over Marseille’s pet ferret, Sofia. An adorable little creature that won the hearts of staff and customers alike, becoming a mascot of sorts.

Nairobi, being the genius that she is, shamelessly used Sofia’s presence and took candid pictures of the staff playing with the small creature to promote the café online.

Mirko felt at home with these people. He never thought a big Serb with difficulties in speaking Spanish would find a group of people like this and click with them so quickly.

Nairobi was easily the closest to him, learning of his sexual orientation she bought him a small rainbow flag pin and proudly put it on his apron with a bright smile.

“This will increase your chance with cute boys.” She announced proudly, patting the pin where it laid on his chest, right next to his name tag.

After a few months of working together, and scrapping for rent, they decided to move in together.

Looking back on it, moving in with her was one of the best decisions in his entire life.

Nairobi was a force of nature, the fire to Mirko’s water, the best friend he would ever have. He couldn’t believe he had lived almost his entire life without her there.

One of her strongest traits was that she was as stubborn as a bull. She has made it her life’s mission to get Mirko a boyfriend,

“i’m telling you, Helsi,” she started one night, while they were enjoying a late dinner of subway sandswiches and wine because they were feeing fancy on the rooftop of the Dulce Noche, “you work way too hard. You don’t go out, you don’t party, you don’t shoot your shot when you see cute guys in the café. You deserve a break, you deserve to _get laid_.”

He snorted a laugh and nearly choked on his food at the last part. She saw no sense of beating around the bush at all.

Today was a relatively slow day, with only a few customers still inside doing work or chatting away over a cup of coffee. Bogotá was in the kitchen in the back, baking, Marseille was on a break and sitting on the ground teaching Sofia tricks while Rio filmed them on his phone, and Nairobi was getting ready for her end of shift .

Mirko was busy cutting up strawberries to decorate some tarts with, when the bell chimed to announce the arrival of new customers. Being used to this, he didn’t even look up and continued his handy work slicing up the fruit.

“Andrés, for the love of god i’m already late on three assignments, I can’t go to the party with you tonight.”

He heard one voice say as they shuffled inside, then the click of the door shut.

“it’s Tatiana’s birthday, Martín.” Replied another.

“I already talked to her and she’s okay with it, so quit needling me. she’s _your_ girlfriend, not mine.” It was clear from his voice that the first one was irritated. The second voice muttered something too low for Mirko to hear, and he didn’t really care about customers’ business, so instead he chose to focus on the task at hand.

“Well hello there.” Nairobi’s voice came from beside him, and he looked up at her. She cocked her head to the side in the direction of the tables, raising her eyebrow momentarily. His eyes followed in the direction she pointed him to and fell on two young men sitting in the table adjacent to the wall near the counter. Well, it fell on one in particular.

A boy with messy hair and a floppy fringe of dark brown hair sat directly opposite his friend and right in front of Mirko’s workstation. He was easily one of the most attractive people he had ever met even with his eyebrows furrowed at whatever his friend was saying. He rolled his eyes and turned to look away from his friend with a begrudging smirk, and locked eyes with Mirko, who stood frozen in his place, knife still in hand. The boy’s smirk turned into a smile and he winked at him.

Mirko’s heart did a double take and he looked down to refocus on his work before he messed anything up.

“Helsinki.” Announced Nairobi in a strangely carefully loud voice that promised all kinds of trouble, “I’m taking my break, can you cover for me?”

He knew she’d do something like this, _damn her wingwoman ways!_

 _“_ Nai, don’t you fucking dare!” he whispered in a hushed tone, dropping his knife to the counter and clenching his fists in a moment of internal panic and despair. He sent a quick prayer to whatever deity was watching over them in that moment, _please he’s too cute for my heart to handle._

“Thanks, Helsi! you’re the best!” She patted his shoulder and threw her braid over her shoulder as she grabbed her bag and made her way out.

Surrendering to his fate, he sighed and moved to stand behind the register. The Gods had forsaken him on this day.

Soon enough, the boy noticed Mirko was on duty and slid off his seat, making his way to the register.

Mirko took a deep breath and plastered his best friendly smile to hide his nervousness.

The boy fixed him with a saccharine smile that crinkled his sparkling eyes.

His _blue_ eyes.

_Oh Gods have mercy._

“Hello, how may I help you?” his offered.

“Hello there-“ he looked at Mirko’s name tag for a moment too long, smiled to himself, then looked back up, “Helsinki?” at Mirko’s nod he muttered something like “oh he wasn’t kidding about the names, then.” He looked up at Mirko again, smile brightening, “well, Helsinki, I would like to order one Caramel Macchiato, one Iced Americano, and two blueberry tarts, please.”

“Right away, sir.” He said as he started typing in the order in the cash register machine’s touchscreen, an expensive model that Moscow had invested in to make it easier for them to work, “Your name, please?”

“Martín.” He answered and Mirko nodded as he typed _enter_ and the receipt was printed.

“That will be 8.35€, please.”

As the boy, _Martín_ , rummaged in his jacket pocket to get his wallet, Mirko turned to call for Marseille signaling the end of his break.

Martín handed him a 10€ note and told him to keep the change.

Marseille came by to take the order but Martín’s hand on Mirko’s stopped him from handing it to Marseille. Mirko looked at him in equal amounts of confusion and surprise. 

“If you don’t mind,” he started and slowly withdrew his hand from Mirko’s, “I would like you to make my order. I wanna see what those hands can do.” He finished, giving Mirko a positively feline smile.

The Gods had not forsaken Mirko today, no. They’re _punishing_ him.

This absolutely beautiful piece of art is flirting with _him_ of all people, and in front of Marseille too.

“I’ll just be on my way, then.” Muttered Marseille before rolling his eyes and turning away leaving Mirko to handle it alone. That bastard.

“Umm, sure I can do it.” Said Mirko absently, earning himself a winning smile from Martín, who winked and thanked him again, before walking a few steps backwards and turning to go back to his seat.

Mirko’s muscle memory handled the rest of the affair for him, preparing the order and putting the drinks and the tart plates, along with eating utensils, in a tray, with the receipt in tow, and heading to the designated table.

He placed the plates in front of the two young men, followed by the utensils, and the drinks, and finally the receipt.

He looked between them, noting the other boy, who was also unfairly handsome but had an intimidating aura to him that countered the easy charm Martín possessed.

After making sure they didn’t need anything else, he quickly made his way back to his station, trading place with Marseille who was giving him the _Look._

Soon enough, his shift came to an end and Bogotá made his way to him from the back to trade places with him.

As he was taking off his apron and gathering his things to head home to give Nairobi an earful, he heard Bogotá greet Martín.

 _Oh so they must be friends already_.

He swung by to Rio and Sofia to say goodbye and play with the little ferret before leaving, and felt eyes on him the entire time.

When he turned to leave he caught Martín giving him a curious look before turning back to reply to something Bogotá said.

Mirko hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw him, but as his luck usually is, Martín is either closeted or looking for a fun night with a big guy like Mirko.

He sighed as he door bell jingled behind him.

Life was unfair, but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

He just wished luck would smile upon him for once.


	2. enter the nerd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another day at the Dulce Noche and everyone’s favorite nerd makes an appearance

**_Mirko_ **

“Okay!” exclaimed Nairobi, clapping her hands animatedly, “we’re opening in 30 minutes!”

She walked around the kitchen and checked everyone’s preparations, “Bogotá, that crust needs a bit more time in the oven.” She remarked and clapped him on the back as she walked by.

“ _Sí_ , _jefa_.” Replied Bogotá, rushing the cherry pie back into the oven.

She continued observing everyone’s stations and deemed them ready to roll.

It has been a routine of theirs to have Nairobi check everything before Moscow came over to watch them work upon opening. No one wanted to disappoint dad so everyone worked hard to get everything in top top shape.

“Alright gentlemen, it’s go time!” she announced some time later, after Moscow had greeted them and taken a seat at the cash register, and Rio jumped at the opportunity to be the one to open up. Mirko never understood what was so exciting about turning over a sign hanging on a door, but he guessed the boy could have his fun.

Not ten minutes later, as was the norm in the morning shift, the door burst open to reveal a disheveled looking Sergio carrying the world’s biggest backpack, hair a mess, glasses low on his nose, hands full of his water bottle and a couple of notebooks that probably didn’t fit in that poor backpack.

Sergio was a regular from the first days of opening, a supporter of the little people at heart, he opted for the small business over a more popular brand name.

He and Nairobi cross paths at the university library a lot and they developed an easy friendship. Nairobi being a protective mother hen took one look at this skinny freshman who was neck deep in his textbooks and decided to adopt him into her ever growing circle of friends.

Sergio dumped his backpack on one of the seats of his usual table, the one furthest away from the window for optimal privacy, placed the notebooks and water bottle on the table, and plopped into his chair.

Mirko started preparing his usual drink order, a triple espresso macchiato, as Bogotá and Nairobi made their way to his table to greet him.

He had his head in his hands and Nairobi standing beside him, rubbing comforting circles on his back when Mirko made his way to his table.

“I just don’t know why he keeps pairing me with _her_ of all people!” he was saying, “everyone knows she likes bullying every partner she gets paired with!”

Mirko made a sympathetic noise as he put the order down on the table, along with some fresh scones.

Sergio had a long past of suffering Alicia Sierra’s wicked ways.

Sergio looked up and gave Mirko a grateful look. Clearly he wasn’t at his best today.

“I swear one day I’ll go right up to that bitch and punch her in her stupid perfect face!” Nairobi exclaimed and absently thumped Sergio on the back in emphasis. Sergio wheezed a cough at the force of the hit, waving off a concerned and apologetic Nairobi, and giving a laughing Bogotá an unimpressed look.

“Thanks Nairobi, but I don’t want you on a war path to defend my honor.” He told her and pushed his glasses up shakily, “Andrés already offered to do that multiple times, and in uhhh varying degrees of severity.”

“Andrés? Your brother?” asked Nairobi and took a seat beside him, throwing an arm over his shoulder as he reached for his coffee, “how come he never shows his face here? We too small for Mr fancy art major?” she asked the last question in a sing song voice and Bogotá snorted and dropped down next to her.

“Mr fancy art major was here yesterday, actually.” He remarked and attempted to steal one of Sergio’s scones, only to have his hand slapped away by Nairobi. He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick kiss before releasing it. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side.

Mirko liked watching them bicker back and forth. Even though Nairobi acts like he bothers her, Mirko knew she liked Bogotá as much as he liked her.

“Wait, he was?” asked Nairobi no one in particular.

“I think he told me he’d swing by with Martín a few days ago.” Answered Sergio.

Nairobi’s head whipped to look at Mirko with a curious expression, who narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. He did _not_ like that look.

“Oh so that was him with the cute boy who came yesterday?”

Bogotá managed to steal a scone, using the distraction of Nairobi going into her infamous ‘shark who smelled blood’ mode. She didn’t even notice him do it. That did not bode well for poor Mirko at all.

“The cute boy?” wondered Sergio aloud, “Martín? Oh yeah he’s his best friend slash whatever it was that they had going on.” He absently reached for his backpack to retrieve a few textbooks, not noticing the way the jovial atmosphere of his other three companions falling.

Nairobi’s eager expression turned to that of disappointment, Bogotá looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at this table in this time, and Mirko? Mirko’s initial dejectedness turned into resignation. He knew that boy was unreachable.

Despite his disappointment, he gave Nairobi a small smile and turned to go back to his station.

He heard the unmistakable sound of a smack and a quiet “ _ow! what did I do?!”_ from Sergio on his way to the counter.

He smiled to himself. Nairobi always looked out for him.

He opted to play some music in the café’s speakers, and started preparing some orders for takeout.

The repetitive actions put him in a productive trance and soon enough he lost himself in routine, grinding coffee beans, brewing fresh coffee, wrapping up pastry to go along with the plastic cups that they used for orders to go.

He genuinely liked preparing orders and putting little note cards with the café logo printed in silver at the top. He hoped small acts like this would help make someone’s day a little bit better.

More customers started trickling in as the morning progressed and Moscow called the slackers sitting with Sergio back to the kitchen, leaving the bespectacled young man to pour over his notes and mull over the disaster that is his next assignment.

As noon neared, Mirko got ready to swap places with Denver to go back to the flat and freshen up before his classes.

After saying his goodbyes, high fiving the boys and giving Nairobi a kiss on the cheek, he grabbed his bag and left.

As he closed the door of the Dulce Noche, he bumped into someone when he turned away from the door.

The boy lost his balance and Mirko instinctively reached out to steady him. His phone, though, wasn’t so lucky. It fell to the ground with a clutter.

Mirko came face to face with one wide eyed Martín.

“Helsinki.” He breathed out, the corners of his mouth stretching into a bright smile. The kind of smile that crinkled his crystal blue eyes, and caused Mirko’s heart to perform a series of Olympics worthy acrobatic moves, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Replied Mirko, equally breathlessly.

For a moment they were quiet, Martín gazing up at him with that same damned smile, and Mirko wondering if it was socially acceptable to run away upon literally running into someone you had a crush on.

He realized he was still holding onto him and he quickly let go and adjusted the strap of his backpack, looking anywhere but at Martín. He wondered if his expression looked as mortified as he felt. Probably so.

“You going somewhere?” Asked Martín, snapping Mirko out of his momentary reverie.

“Uhh yeah I was heading home before going to classes.”

“Oh.” Said Martín. The evident disappointment in his voice caused Mirko to look back at him and see the smile on his handsome face had dimmed slightly.

“Bogotá is still inside, he has an hour more on his shift.”

Martín made a face and bent down to pick up his phone, “I didn’t really come to see Bogotá.” He brushed dust off the screen of his phone and checked it for cracks, sliding it in his front pocket when he was satisfied of its condition. “I see his ugly face too often for it to be healthy, anyway.”

He looked up at Mirko again and that feline smile from the day before made a reappearance, “I have a new favorite barista.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at Mirko.

Flustered, Mirko looked down at his hands and did his best impression of a stone statue, something he quite excelled at.

Martín chuckled and started to move past Mirko to the door, “I won’t hold you off longer, but just so you know i’m going to bully that useless oaf Bogotá until he gives me your shift schedule so I get to come back and annoy you properly next time.

Mirko wanted to say he didn’t annoy him.

He wanted to say Bogotá was too loyal to spill Mirko’s schedule, and that he would have better luck with Nairobi, instead.

He wanted to say his next shift was tomorrow morning.

He didn’t say any of that, though.

He only managed a choked off “okay” before turning heel and practically sprinting towards the nearest bus stop.

He sat in the bus and observed life pass him by from the window and sighed.

He thought about what Sergio said and how it didn’t match with Martín’s attitude towards Mirko.

He thought about how Martín trying to figure out his schedule and come just to see him had made him feel incredibly light.

He sighed and rested his forehead against the window.

_Oh this is going to be a long long day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> si, jefa : yes, boss
> 
> poor helsi never catches a break *sigh* 
> 
> what did you think of this one?


	3. he really just means well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Damn.” He finally breathed out.
> 
> “Damn.” Repeated Bogotá.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s 2:30 am please no judgement 😔
> 
> this one’s for you, Dana <3

**_Martín_ **

****

****

Following his encounter with Helsinki at the door, and the boy’s subsequent fleeing, Martín pushed the door open and shuffled dejectedly into the café.

He had really wanted to see the barista again. The day before he didn’t get much chance to talk to him because Andrés was there too, and he didn’t want to leave his best friend sitting alone to flirt with someone he just met. Not that Andrés would mind but he just didn’t feel comfortable flirting with someone while Andrés was near him yet.

The funny thing was that he hadn’t even had a chance with Andrés, he got rejected right away. And honestly it was for the best. Andrés and Martín were too alike to work. Andrés wouldn’t have truly loved Martín the way he needed to be loved, and Martín wouldn’t have loved himself enough to care. That type of relationship was never right for either part.

He wasn’t completely over him yet, even though he tried to sleep his way through it with different people.

Nevertheless, he actually wasn’t looking for a one night stand with this Helsinki. He seemed gentle and quiet.

Contrary to what the tattoo sleeves on both arms and the intimidating build could suggest, Martín could tell Helsinki was the gentle giant type.

The crimson blush blossoming on his cheeks when Martín called him ‘his new favorite barista’ was one of the most endearing sights Martín had ever seen.

In truth, Martín looked suave, confident, and flirtatious to others but it was only with people he didn’t care about.

This one, though, had caught his attention and he wanted to know more about him.

He sounded foreign, as most of the baristas were in this café. Eastern European maybe? He wasn’t sure.

he’d have to ask Bogotá.

Speaking of that idiot, he just spotted his head of messy brown hair and made a beeline for the counter.

Halfway there he noticed a familiar sight in the corner table. Tucked into the table furthest away from the windows and the crowds, sat local idiot genius Sergio Marquina in all his glory.

Martín had never seen such a juxtaposition of someone being so smart yet so stupid at the same time. He sent a silent prayer to the Gods to help poor Raquel who has to deal with him on a daily basis.

Deciding not to burst Sergio’s focus bubble just yet, he continued on his way to the counter to bully Bogotá into giving him some info.

“There’s my favorite human being!” he lied upon reaching the counter, leaning his weight on it and giving Bogotá his best grin.

“Stop lying, Martín. i’m not even in your top five.” Countered Bogotá easily, returning the grin with his own.

Martín made a face at him and dropped the act, “okay that was a blatant lie, but I do like you!”

“Spill it, Berrote.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if Martín was giving him a headache.

Knowing Martín’s effect on his friends, that was probably the case.

“Okay, so you know how I came here yesterday and found this giant gorgeous specimen of a human being called Helsinki at the counter?” he asked, “yeah anyway I came by today to see him again, and mayyyyybe get his number or something? But he just bumped into me on his way out while I was sending Tati cute cat videos.” He took a deep breath and gave Bogotá, who had his an eyebrow raised at this long tirade, his best puppy eyed look, “so like, can you maybe tell me his schedule so I can work something out with mine and get to see him again?” he finished with a hopeful tone and bit his lower lip.

“Hell no.” deadpanned Bogotá.

Martín’s mouth fell open in surprise. _What the hell?_

“What do you mean ‘hell no’? C’mon man, help me out a bit.”

“Nope.”

Martín threw his head back in frustration. It was his turn to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Look Martín,” started Bogotá, “you’re one of my closest friends and I love you, but a) it’s the café’s policy not to give staff’s personal information to customers and b) Helsi is my friend too and I don’t know what happened between you and Andrés but I won’t let you hurt him in your path to get over Andrés, you hear me?” he leaned closer to Martín, lowering his voice, “If you do pursue him and end up hurting him, so help me _God_ I will fucking castrate you, Martín Berrote.”

Martín stood there stunned for a few moments at the intensity of Bogotá’s declaration. His mouth opened and closed a few times, doing a fairly accurate impression of a fish out of water.

“ _Damn._ ” He finally breathed out.

“Damn.” Repeated Bogotá.

“Can you at least tell me if he’s coming tomorrow or not?”

“He is.” A female voice said, appearing suddenly from behind Bogotá’s impressive shoulders.

Martín did not flinch in surprise and anyone who says so is a liar.

He recognized the newcomer from the day before. She had left shortly after he arrived but she was striking enough to be remembered.

Her raven black hair was pulled back into twin braids that laid on each shoulder. Her facial features were some of the most aesthetically pleasing he had ever seen on a woman.

Never let it be said that Martín Berrote didn’t appreciate beauty when he saw it.

He noticed something else, though.

Bogotá, who was just threatening to disfigure Martín’s genitalia, had gone completely docile and hung back, allowing her to be in front of him and take charge.

Interesting.

And by interesting he meant ‘ _I got you by the balls, Bogotá. there’s no escaping me now.”_

The girl, her name tag read _Nairobi_ , was giving him a curious look. Appraising, weighing, assessing.

He felt laid bare, like the day he was born.

What a fearsome woman.

The staring contest finally came to an end when Nairobi was satisfied in what she saw in him, whatever it was, and decided to divulge more information,

“I can’t tell you his schedule but I can tell you he will be here tomorrow morning.”

Martín flashed her a genuine smile and thanked her for the help.

“You know what would happen if you treat him wrong, yes?” she said, leaning back into Bogotá’s much bigger frame. Bogotá looked down in surprise at the top of her head and smiled to himself. Martín is _never_ going to let him hear the end of this.

He nodded affirmative and assured her he’d behave himself.

He ordered his Caramel Macchiato and told them he’d be at Sergio’s table.

He had a feeling Nairobi would be a great ally to him, he needed to make sure to stay on her right side.

He sensed her wrath would be far worse than Bogotá’s.

He plopped down next to Sergio and startled the younger boy.

“Martín!” He exclaimed, hand reaching to rest on his heart, “When did you get here?”

Martín opted to steal a scone and take his time munching on it before answering, much to Sergio’s annoyance.

“I got here like, 10 minutes ago?” he said after gulping down a mouthful. He made a note to order some of these scones to go, they were delicious.

“that your project with the wicked witch of the west?”

Sergio tried to repress his smile at the name calling, and failed miserably. He may think he’s above childish squabbles and intricacies of human interactions, but deep down he’s just as petty as the rest of them.

“Yeah,” he sighed despondently, reaching for his cup only to find it empty, “I have to finish first draft by Monday and i’m _not_ looking forward to sitting down with Alicia to go over it.”

Martín hummed in sympathy, “you should’ve let Andrés handle her a long time ago, if you ask me.”

Sergio shot him an irritated look, “i’m not a child, Martín. I can take care of myself.” He leaned back and gazed at the ceiling, “besides, Andrés would probably have her assassinated or something.”

Martín snorted in amusement. Andrés would do _much_ worse than have her assassinated, but they don’t talk about that side of him.

One of the baristas he didn’t recognize, a younger boy with curly hair and a sunny smile, placed Martín’s order and a new one for Sergio, replacing his cup.

“Thanks, denver.”

“Anytime, professor.” He replied with the weirdest laugh Martín had ever heard. It sounded more like a sheep laughing than a human.

“I told you not to call me that.” Sighed Sergio, “Just because I tutor you in some subjects doesn’t mean i’m actually your professor.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, professor!” he laughed again and left when an older gentleman called him.

They looked related.

“Where’s Andrés?” asked Sergio after a few moments of companionable silence, filled only by the bustle of the café around them and the quiet flipping of papers from Sergio’s notebook.

“class, most likely.” Answered Martín, idly scrolling through his twitter feed. Tatiana posted a few magazine worthy pictures of her in a flowing dark green dress that complimented her complexion and hair immensely.

Martín, being the great friend that he is, bombarded her with heart emojis and reaction pictures of people swooning with hearts all around them.

“you say that like you don’t know his schedule by heart.” Remarked Sergio, idly making notes.

“contrary to popular belief, dear Sergio, I don’t actually live in Andrés’ ass.” Martín rolled his eyes heavenward and thumped Sergio in the back when he choked on his own spit.

Even though he had been in love with Andrés for most of his life, he really wasn’t that far gone. And it was that, _past tense._ And people needed to understand that.

Whatever Sergio was about to say was drowned by the jingle of the door bell that caught Martín’s attention, revealing a worn out Helsinki, red in the face. He looked like he ran here. He made his way to the counter, nearing Sergio and Martín’s table.

Martín was part relieved to see him again, part panicking because he thought he was gone and _oh god I haven’t prepared to see him again today what if I say something weird and put him off oh god oh fuck-_

His panicked internal monologue was halted when Helsinki looked around and spotted him, locking eyes.

Martín ‘Screaming Internally’ Berrote did the most panicked Martín thing he could do and winked. A nervous habit he had developed, which needed to stop. He was making people, including himself, uncomfortable.

Helsinki, god bless his soul, only stood there for a moment before blurting out “I forgot my keys” and scurrying away and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Oh my god, I know that look.” Said Sergio and nudged him with a finger, “No! Bad Martín! Bad Martín! Don’t give Helsi the sex eyes!” he said and started shaking Martín by the shoulder.

“You idiot, stop shaking me! These are not the sex eyes! There are the ‘you’re beautiful and I appreciate your existence eyes’!” Martín protested, still rocking back and forth with Sergio’s hand.

“Oh.” He breathed, and let go of his shoulder.

“Yeah, _oh.”_

Helsinki passed them by in a blur of movement and quickly closed the door behind him.

“what’s he so in a hurry for?” Martín wondered out loud.

“He has classes in like an hour and he has to eat, shower, and squeeze in a nap before that since he has night shift at the hospital and he doesn’t want them to be dealing with a passed out giant of a man.” Answered Sergio, eyes narrowed at the words in his notebook as if they just offended his entire ancestry.

_Night shift?_ Was Helsinki a med student?

“A nursing student, actually.” Answered Sergio again. Martín must’ve wondered that out loud again.

A nursing student, though. Martín tried to envision Helsinki in a nurse outfit and clutched his heart at the adorable thought.

Sergio ignored Martín as he made several inhuman noises while contemplating how Helsinki would take care of patients, and decided that his assignment was a better use of his time than watching Martín have a meltdown.


	4. a rat infestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he gone yet?” asked Martín from his place on the floor next to Mirko’s feet.   
> Mirko had barely recovered and was sent into another wave of barely suppressed laughter“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another post-midnight update because i have no chill whatsoever :D

**_Mirko_ **

“Is he gone yet?” asked Martín from his place on the floor next to Mirko’s feet. 

Mirko had barely recovered and was sent into another wave of barely suppressed laughter, fist covering his mouth as to not let out any noise.

Martín playfully hit his leg, “C’mon Helsinki, I have a class in twenty minutes!” he whispered furiously.

A noise escaped Mirko’s mouth and tears started streaming from his eyes.

“Oh my god I’m gonna miss my class!” Martín whined quietly.

“Not the first time, not the last.” Remarked Bogotá beside him.

The whole situation was so ridiculous that Mirko couldn’t help laughing at their struggles.

Everything started a few hours before, Martín strolled in confidently, heading straight for the counter.

“Oh great,” sighed Marseille, who was on register duty, “lover boy is back.”

Mirko had predicted he would be making a reappearance, having cornered Nairobi the previous night when she’d arrived at their tiny apartment and made her tell him everything. She told him about Bogotá threatening to castrate Martín for him, which he felt oddly happy about. He wasn’t an advocate of violence but something about Bogotá choosing his side over Martín’s made him feel good inside. He also noticed how proud Nairobi was of Bogotá when she spoke about how he made it clear to Martín to not mess with Mirko, how her respect for him had grown. Mirko hoped this would give her the push she needed to finally take things to the next level with the guy. Poor Bogotá was pining after her quietly for months now.

At the moment, though, he was as controlled as he could be. No more panic and no more one word answers. Or so he hoped.

“Morning!” greeted Martín when he arrived at the counter, blatantly ignoring Sergio being buried in paper at his table.

“Morning.” Replied Marseille unenthusiastically and left his station, coming in Mirko’s direction.

“What?”

“Let’s not pretend he’s here for my good looks, Helsinki.” Marseille gave him a pointed look, “go get him, tiger!” he clapped Mirko on the shoulder.

Mirko wondered if every single one of his friends was traitor setting him up for embarrassment.

He sighed and made his way to the register, giving Martín a small genuine smile despite the butterflies in his stomach making it hard for him.

“Hey.” Martín breathed and leaned against the counter, resting his elbows on the surface, and giving Mirko a beaming smile.

“Hey.”

“One large Caramel Macchiato and two blueberry muffins, please.”

Mirko was starting to notice a blueberry theme with Martín, and made a mental note to save this bit of information for later.

He handed Marseille the order and returned his attention to the beautiful boy in front of him. He noticed he had small golden earrings that he hadn’t noticed before. Today he was wearing a dark blue sweater with “Save the Ocean” printed on his chest, faded jeans, and black stomper boots. His hair was as thick and floppy as the few times he’d seen it before that Mirko wondered if it was intentional to add to his charm.

“Sergio said you training to be a nurse.”

Martín’s voice broke him out of his introspection, and he nodded.

“Tell me about it?” asked Martín with a hopeful tone and Mirko found himself talking about how he came to study to be a nurse. How he had wanted to enlist like his cousin Radko, but an injury had prevented him from being accepted. How Radko told him it was better that he helped people rather than killed them, and how that sparked the idea of being a nurse. He confessed that a lot of people laughed at him for choosing to be a nurse because of his height and build. Martín said it was nonsense and those people are a bunch of no good idiots. It made Mirko feel a little bit lighter, knowing Martín wouldn’t laugh at the way he looked.

Then it was Martín’s turn to talk about how he came to study engineering. He was interrupted twice by customers coming to order but that didn’t deter him, he just bounced back and continued where he left off.

Nairobi came by to relieve him of his shift but decided not to after seeing them talking so easily. She greeted Martín and talked with him for a few moments before leaning back and looking at the café’s front door with squinting eyes,

“isn’t that Bogotá’s professor? what’s his name, the mean one…” she mumbled and before Martín could turn around to look, Nairobi snapped her fingers in a clear sign of recognition, “Tamayo! Yes! Professor Tamayo, his Machine Design professor!” she exclaimed and Mirko watched the color drain from Martín’s face. His eyes grew as big as saucers.

Mirko was about to ask him what’s wrong when in a flurry of movement, he ran around the counter, and ducked under it, squatting next to Mirko’s feet.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Nairobi bewilderedly, looking down at Martín as he made himself comfortable on the floor.

Mirko had a million question to ask but he settled on the one at the forefront of his mind, “Are you hiding from Tamayo?”

“I missed my Machine Design project deadline three days ago and skipped yesterday’s class to avoid him.” Explained Martín in a hushed tone.

Nairobi pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud at him.

Mirko was already shaking just looking down at Martín, cramped on the floor beside him.

“Oh shit, he’s coming!” exclaimed Nairobi and turned to leave, being the traitor that she is, leaving Mirko alone with Martín to handle the situation.

“Good morning.” Greeted Professor Tamayo gruffly and Mirko felt Martín grab his leg in warning.

“Good morning, sir.” Choked out Mirko, trying his best not to laugh in the man’s face and expose the boy at his feet.

“Black coffee and scones, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

He told Tamayo to take a seat while they prepared his order and the man turned to find a table.

Mirko sighed in relief and looked down at Martín who was still holding onto his leg with his eyes tight shut.

Laughter came bubbling out of him and he clamped his mouth shut with a hand lest he gets unwanted attention.

After sending the professor’s order, it was a matter of waiting him out.

A while later, Bogotá came to ask Mirko for something and noticed Martín on the floor.

“Helsinki.” he said calmly, “call the pest control, I think we have a rat infestation.”

Martín, to his credit, raised his hand and gave him the middle finger, to which Bogotá smiled benignly before looking around, spotting Tamayo, and instantly dropping to the floor.

“You too?!” asked Mirko incredulously as he watched Bogotá crawl the short distance and join Martín leaning against the counter.

“Same project as Martín.” He explained, “we were supposed to do it together but we got drunk and went out for karaoke night instead.”

“who’s the rat infestation now, asshole?” said Martín, letting go of Mirko’s leg and elbowing Bogotá in the ribs.

Before Mirko could do anything, Denver popped up out of nowhere, took one look at the two sitting on the floor, and decided to join them.

“Who are we hiding from?” he asked excitedly

“Professor Tamayo.” Came Bogotá and Martín’s twin reply.

“Oh.” He whispered, “who’s that?” he continued after a few moments of silence. Martín facepalmed in response, causing Mirko to go into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Back to the present moment, Tamayo was finally preparing to leave and Mirko took a moment to calm himself and waited for Tamayo to leave before looking down at the trio and telling them the coast is clear.

“Well, gentlemen.” Said Martín, dusting himself off, “This was fun. Let’s never do it again.” He gave them all a fake smile in turn, the smile softening into something more real when he looked at Mirko.

“Joy looks good on you, Helsinki.” He said and Mirko was suddenly aware of how close they were, standing almost arm to arm.

“I look forward to seeing you again.” He said and winked at Mirko.

Mirko wondered wether those winks were deliberate or more of a habit to Martín.

“You didn’t get your order!” blurted Mirko, “wait here let me get it for you.” Without waiting for a response, he made his way to Marseille only to discover that Marseille had ‘conveniently’ forgotten to prepare Martín’s order.

Mirko gave him the stink eye and started to prepare the order to go, placing a little note inside the plastic bag for Martín to read later.

He came back to find Nairobi had joined the trio and was laughing so hard she had buried her face in Bogotá’s arm, while he smiled at her dopily.

Mirko handed Martín the bag and watched him go around the counter to leave.

“i’ll be back.” He promised.

“i’m counting on it.” Replied Mirko honestly, and watched a delightful blush bloom across Martín’s cheeks before he turned and quickly retreated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you guys think of this one? i’m not too happy with it but it’s too late to make any changes so here it is


	5. honeycomb heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making a small victorious ‘aha!’ he pulled the lilac colored card out and noticed the Dulce Noche logo on the back.  
> He turned it to see what was written on the other side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy this chapter as a “fuck you” to everyone spreading negativity on my tl. 
> 
> i said whoever said martín’s going to die, your mom’s a hoe

**_Martín_ **

****

****

****

The last two weeks had passed in a blur. His visits to the Dulce Noche becoming a routine, three days in the morning and four in the afternoon, even though Helsinki had Fridays off, Martín still went there to chat with Nairobi and Bogotá, and later on even Marseille and denver. He discovered Marseille had a wicked sense of humor and that when he was paired with Nairobi, no one can survive their sharp tongues. He also met the owner, Moscow, a few times. A kind old man, who struck him as a gentle soul. His son, Denver, was the sun personified. He was energetic and humorous, fun loving, and a troublemaker at heart. He meant well, though. The last additions he got to know were the high school student, Rio, and Marseille’s pet ferret, Sofia. Out of the two, he preferred Sofia. Nothing against the kid, he just liked animals better.

Sometimes Andrés would accompany him, when his schedule was free for an hour or so. He would sit quietly in the corner table, sketching patrons and staff alike. Martín found a sketch of himself leaning on the counter, arm raised enthusiastically in the air, in the middle of explaining something or the other, probably a machine design by the looks of it, and Helsinki looking at him with a small smile playing at his lips. The way Andrés had drawn them with everyone else blurred had made Martín’s heart skip a beat. Even Andrés could see how captivated he was by Helsinki. He asked Andrés if he could take it, and Andrés gave it to him, but not before signing his name and the date under it, “so you don’t forget who blessed you with his talent.” He had said, smug smile playing at his lips.

Sometimes Andrés would sit with Sergio and stare darkly at all the work Alicia has him do, not able to do anything since he promised Sergio he’d behave.

Martín found it hilarious that the only person able to tame the great Andrés de Fonollosa is his baby brother, nerd extraordinaire Sergio Marquina.

With a soft sigh, he made his way into the university building, order in hand, lecture abandoned, he dropped down onto the bench near Hall H and reached into his jeans pocket to retrieve his phone.

He scrolled through his contacts and pressed on Tatiana’s name, waiting for her to pick up.

“Tati, my love!” he greeted, “your voice is a balm to the soul!”

“oh stop it!” she chuckled, “aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“you will not _believe_ what happened today, Tati.” He trilled excitedly, “are you free right now? I wanna see you and tell you all about it.”

“i’m with andrés but I can ditch him and come for you if it’s juicy.”

“oh, darling.” He sighed, “it’s juicy, alright. Ditch that bore and come here, i’m at the bench near Hall H, you know the one.”

“Alright sweetheart, i’ll be there in ten!”

He hung up and took a few moments to breathe in the fresh air.

This particular spot was coined by him and Andrés back when they were freshmen, Tatiana joining them a year later.

Martín loved how tranquil it was. The students who laid on the grass around him were either lying down, eyes closed, or quietly chatting while having lunch. He always appreciated the peaceful atmosphere of this spot.

He remembered his order and twisted to the side to straddle the bench and open the plastic bag.

He paused just short of reaching down for his drink, remembering the card that Helsinki had placed with his order that day they hid from Tamayo. He had placed it in his backpack in his hurry and forgot about it for the past two weeks.

Cursing his idiocy, he reached for his backpack and rummaged through it to find it.

Making a small victorious ‘aha!’ he pulled the lilac colored card out and noticed the Dulce Noche logo on the back.

He turned it to see what was written on the other side. It read:

“ _I once read that Rupi Kaur had said:_

_‘You must have a_

_Honeycomb_

_For a heart_

_How else_

_Could a man_

_Be this sweet’_

_And only recently that I met someone that reminded me of those words._

_-H”_

Martín read and reread those words about a dozen times, and that’s how Tatiana found him; a big smile lighting up his entire face, eyes slightly shining, one hand holding the the card and the other on his chest.

“Martín?” She placed her delicate hand on his shoulder, “sweetheart?”

He looked up at her, opened his mouth and closed it, words refusing to come out. Eventually he handed her the card and bit into his fist, releasing a muffled scream.

Startled and bewildered, Tatiana turned her attention to the card, examining then reading it.

“Oh my god.” She whispered.

“I know!” moaned Martín.

“Martín…”

“ _I know!”_ he put his face into his hands, “he’s so _sweet,_ Tati, how am I supposed to recover from this?!”

“it’s okay, sweetheart, i’m here for you.” She said, patting his shoulder consolingly, “Is this the same cute guy you told me about last week?”

“The one and only.”

“Well, have you asked for his number yet?”

“I kinda wanted to go slow with him, you know?” he looked up at her, eyebrows pinched, “I don’t wanna scare him away by being… well, me.”

“Martín…” Admonished Tatiana, sitting beside him and throwing a slender arm around his shoulder, bringing him close, “being you is the best thing you could do.” She started, “You are a wonderful person, a great friend, so funny and charming, loyal, loving, and the most unselfish person i’ve ever met.

I knew you liked Andrés from the moment he introduced us, but not because you showed me any ill feelings. Your eyes betray your love. I would’ve understood if you hated me for being with him, but you didn’t. You genuinely befriended me and treated me like my own person, and not Andrés’ girlfriend.

it’s what I loved most about you. When you love, you love with your entire being. You don’t do things half-assed, go big or go home. And even though things between you and Andrés didn’t work out, you were still there for him, and for me, even though you were a broken mess for a while.

So darling, never sell yourself short like that again. From what I see, this guy can see through you no matter what image you project. And he’s right, you know.” She said and tapped him on the nose, “you do have a honeycomb heart.”

Martín felt like crying, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

“It’s okay to not feel okay about yourself, but tell me when you do so I could remind you of how amazing you are.” She mumbled against his hair.

They stayed like that until he got his bearings again, and pulled away. He sniffed and broke into a watery laugh, “Don’t make me cry, I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Martín, the only ones who see you as a suave bad boy are yourself and strangers on the street.” She gave him a stolid look, “to everyone who knows you, you’re a soft marshmallow.”

He narrowed his still somewhat wet eyes at her but decided to drop it and turn to his order instead.

He handed her a frappe and a chocolate muffin, and took his macchiato and blueberry muffin.

He told her about what he had witnessed today in the café while they were eating. Silene Oliviera, a fashion major and his unofficial arch nemesis, had had a fight with Sergio’s girlfriend, Raquel, over some comments she made about the possibility of a threesome between her, Sergio, and Raquel. As soon as it got physical, instead of trying to come between them, Martín whipped out his phone and started filming under the intention of showing the clip later to Tati and Helsinki when he would clock in the next day.

Tatiana was howling with laughter by the end of the video, where Silene was on her back on the floor, with Raquel on top of her and a panicked Sergio trying to pull her away.

“Raquel is getting a fruit basket for this!” she announced, laugh subsiding, “No, you know what? i’m taking her shopping! This is the best thing that happened this year without a doubt!” she leaned into Martín, giggling, who was grinning proudly like a madman.

Raquel earned some major respect points in his book for this.

Half an hour later they decided to take a walk around campus, as they haven’t had the chance to hang out alone since the school year started.

Halfway through their walk, Martín’s heart jumped as he spotted Helsinki making walking their way, headphones on, eyes down, and hands in his pockets.

Martín stopped in the middle of the path, ignoring Tatiana’s questioning look, and waited for Helsinki to notice him. As he predicted, it didn’t take long for Helsinki to notice someone was in his way, and looking up.

A smile pulled the corners of his lips upward when he saw Martín, who returned the smile,

“Hey, stranger.” Greeted Martín, winking as his heart thumped in his chest.

“Hey, yourself.” Replied Helsinki, eyes crinkling with a warm smile. He tore his eyes from Martín’s face to look at Tatiana, and Martín finally remembered she was there.

“This is my best friend, Tatiana.” He said, motioning to her, and she held her hand for Helsinki to shake, “Tatiana, this is Helsinki, my favorite barista.” He winked at Helsinki again, who rolled his eyes fondly and reached to grasp her small hand in his and shake it firmly.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Tatiana.”

“Oh, sweetheart, the pleasure is all mine!” she exclaimed and crossed over to stand at his side and put her arms around his, “where are you going? Can we walk you there?” she said, not giving him a chance to reply and dragging him along.

Helsinki looked alarmed and looked at Martín in a clear “please help me” way. Martín shrugged in response as if to say “just roll with it, man”

Tatiana had taken an interest in him, there was nothing they can do about it now.

Martín fell into step beside Helsinki as they walked together, Tatiana chatting away, asking Helsinki all sorts of questions.

Every now and then their arms would brush together and Helsinki would look down at Martín with a small smile.

Martín had never felt so content simply taking a walk in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you see me making mistakes, no you didn’t❤️ 
> 
> it’s 2:30 am and i’m tired and sad let me have this😭


	6. The Secret Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helsinki is exhausted. Martín wants to help. Andrés has some suggestions. and a secret society is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update? at a fairly decent hour? what are the odds?

**_Martín_ **

****

****

****

Strolling into the Dulce Noche has become a treasured routine to him by now. He instantly felt at home the moment he stepped foot into the café, breathing in the rose scented candles that Nairobi lights around the place. He had come to appreciate the soft ambient music Marseille plays from the speakers and the way he sits on the ground to play with Sofía, the wide grin Denver would direct at him when he’d see him every day, the way Moscow checks up on his staff individually and makes sure they’re okay to work, the way Nairobi and Bogotá look at each other when the other is too busy to notice, the way rio shyly approaches him for help with his homework when he’s sitting with Andrés, and the way Helsinki looks a little bit better, a little less tired, by the time Martín leaves.

Today, though, Martín was extra concerned for the big guy.

He had been talking to him for the better part of half an hour, trying to crack jokes and make him laugh, but the most he got were quiet chuckles. The circles around his eyes were darker, and the way he held himself was tense.

Martín tried to get him to take a break but Helsi waved him off saying it’s his job and it’s not fair to increase the load on the others.

Martín sighed, eyebrows furrowing in thought. After a few moments of mulling it over, his eyes lit up as a thought occurred to him.

It was time to summon the council.

He looked up at Helsinki and excused himself to go sit with Andrés and Sergio, absentmindedly blowing him a kiss before turning and making his way to their table. Halfway through his mind caught up with him and he had a brief moment of panic over the flying kiss but decided to file it for later, under his very packed folder of “slip ups to freak about in solitude”.

He slid into his seat next to Andrés, the latter looking questioningly at him, “Martín, this is a record.” He mused, “why are you back so soon, Helsinki finally kicked you out?” he said with a lopsided smile.

“oh ha ha!” Martín gave him an unimpressed look, and took his phone out, focusing on it instead, “comedian of the year. I actually cut it short to come here and ask you for help with something.”

He felt Andrés perk up next to him, and smiled to himself. Andrés never passed an opportunity to, in his own words, “fuck shit up”.

“Help? What kind of help?”

“hold on, I need to gather the cavalier first.”

He found Bogotá’s contact number and sent him a message.

**Me:** hey asshole

**Me:** I need your help with something

**Bother™️:** not interested

**Me:** cmon man it’s for Helsinki

**Bother™️:** …

**Bother™️:** go on

**Me:** are you and your crush free this afternoon?

**Bother™️:** my crush??

**Me:** nairobi

**Bother™️:** I don’t have a crush on nairobi

**Me:** yeah and i’m straight

**Me:** are you two free or not

**Bother™️:** —__—

**Bother™️:** yeah we are

**Me:** great! Meet me at this location at 4 pm

**Me:** [attachment]

**Bother™️:** yeah okay whatever

**Me:** ask marseille and denver if they wanna come too

**Bother™️:** i’m getting concerned of your intentions

**Me:** fuck you it’s for the greater good

**Bother™️:** sure

Satisfied of Bogotá’s answer, he turned to the two sitting near him, finding Andrés’ intense gaze pinned on him.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” asked Martín.

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” he cocked his head to the side in that half creepy half attractive way of his. Either way, it was unsettling to see, “And it has to do with how tired your barista looks.”

Martín wasn’t surprised Andrés noticed, even sitting as far away as he was. Andrés liked watching people, breaking them apart and putting them back together with his eyes, finding out their strengths and weaknesses. Raquel once told Martín, when they were the only ones left awake at a house party, that the way Andrés’ mind worked was incredibly interesting to her. He was one of the most complex people she had ever met, and Martín agreed. Andrés took people apart like an industrial paper shredder, and was scarily good at using their weaknesses to get what he wants.

So of course he would notice Helsinki wasn’t doing great.

Martín nodded at him, not saying a word, wanting to see how Andrés would react.

He hummed and narrowed his eyes at Martín, like he was assessing him.

“I’ll help.” He finally said, “whatever it is.” He promised. The promise weighed more than those simple words. This was Andrés accepting Helsinki into his friend circle. A rare occurrence.

Andrés de Fonollosa didn’t just accept anyone.

Martín’s lips stretched with a big smile and he grabbed Andrés’ face, kissing his cheek.

“You’re the best, Andrés de Fonollosa!”

“Like there was any doubt about it.” Andrés chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“Did I miss something?” asked a bleary eyed Sergio, who had apparently just resurfaced from his focus bubble.

Andrés snorted and reached to pat his hair affectionately, “we’ll tell you later, hermanito.”

Later on, they all sat in a circle on the grass in that spot near Hall H.

Sergio brought Raquel with him, Andrés brought Tatiana, Denver brought his girlfriend Monica, Bogotá and Nairobi sat next to each other, and Marseille brought Sofía.

“Oh god i’m surrounded by heterosexuals.” Said Martín, looking disgustedly around, “this is my worst nightmare.”

“Don’t insult me, Martín.” Said Nairobi, “I’m bi.”

“Actually i’m asexual.” Marseille piped up.

“i’m bi, too.” Said Andrés, accepting a high five from Nairobi.

“Good to know i’m not outnumbered by the hets!” announced Martín, relieved.

“Wanna tell us why we’re all gathered here like a cult?” asked Raquel, taking out a container of cookies and passing it around.

“Yes, well.” Said Martín and clapped his hands together to get the attention of attendees whose attention was stolen by the cookies, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to discuss the very serious subject of my Helsinki’s health.”

A few eyebrows were raised at the “my Helsinki” part but they nodded all the same.

“I believe some of you noticed how he looks… worse for wear lately?”

“It’s okay, Martín. You can say he looks like sh-“ Denver was interrupted by a smack to the head from Bogotá who was sitting next to him.

Martín glared half-heartedly at the boy, who rubbed at his head sheepishly.

“He looks ‘not good’. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

Not waiting for confirmation from anyone, he continued, “I called you all in here today to help me do something to help him.

I have no idea what to do, and some of you-“ he looked at Nairobi, “- are closer to him than I am. So, what do you suggest?”

The group looked thoughtful for a few moments, thinking of what they could do to help.

“His finals are next week.” Said Nairobi, “He keeps stressing over not having enough time to study, but still refusing to take the week off from work to study.”

There were hums of sympathy, the whole group having experienced this in various degrees.

“I can get his exam questions.” Stated Andrés quietly.

“You can _what?_ ” came the response from different members of the group, most vocally from Denver.

“I can get his exam questions.” Reiterated Andrés calmly, “all of them.”

“He won’t accept them.” Said Nairobi, biting on her nails. Bogotá gently reached a hand to cover hers and bring it away from her mouth.

“He wouldn’t have to.” Interjected Martín, “One of us could learn the questions and help him study by focusing mostly on them.”

“This could work.” Nodded Marseille, petting Sofía soothingly, “Helsinki has too many things on his mind, and is too innocent to consider someone is trying to help him cheat.”

Martín hummed in agreement.

Helsinki was too sweet for this deviant bunch.

“Okay, now we got one part down. What about the rest?”

They spent about an hour brainstorming ideas, coming up with plans and ruling out others.

The most outlandish being Denver’s ideas, to no one’s surprise.

At one point Sofía padded across the grass to settle in Andrés’ lap, much to his surprise and confusion. He patted her soft fur hesitantly at first, growing more confident when she didn’t run away. He absolutely ignored the cooing coming from Tati, Raquel, and Monica, not noticing Sergio was sneakingly taking pictures of him and the little creature.

Eventually, they agreed that the plan would go as follows:

  1. Getting the exam questions and helping Helsinki study
  2. Convince Helsinki to take a few days off after finals to rest
  3. Take him out clubbing (Denver’s idea, seconded by Nairobi and Tati)



They all exchanged numbers and created a group chat to keep each other updated, and thus the Secret Circle gc was created.

Martín looked around at the people gathered here at his request and smiled warmly. Even though they didn’t all know each other, but they all wanted to help Martín help Helsinki.

He really had great friends, and he had a feeling he would get closer to the baristas in the coming days.

His heart fluttered with excitement, for the plan, for Helsinki, and for the possibility of gaining more friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andrés in this verse is growing on me y’all


	7. The Intervention: part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the cavalry arrives at helsi and nairobi’s apartment to execute phase one of the intervention plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise pov!!

**_Nairobi_ **

Pushing the door of the tiny apartment close with her foot, Nairobi followed Helsinki into the kitchen to drop the bags of groceries they were carrying.

 _There._ She thought to herself. _This should be enough to last us finals week._

Trepidation creeped into her mind as she thought of finals week. She had everything in control, but it was still the most stressful time for any student.

On top of everything, she was worried Helsi might discover their little farce.

Despite people choosing to ignore it, the fact remains that Helsi is really smart. Him being quiet doesn’t mean he’s stupid or dim witted. His accent isn’t an indicator of his intelligence, either.

Sometimes she wanted to punch the daylight out of anyone who even looked at him wrong.

A few times, she did.

“Do you wanna shower first, or should I go ahead?”

She heard Helsi ask.

Turning to give him a tired smile, she said, “I’ll go first so I could start making dinner while you take your turn.”

He nodded and plopped down on the comfy black leather couch, and turned the tv on.

Their apartment was small, in an apartment building full of students and elders. How they managed to find a building that only catered to the young and the very old, Nairobi had no idea.

Most of the furniture in the apartment was already there when they arrived, and the rest was scavenged over the months from thrift stores and tenants who were moving out.

Nairobi’s favorite item was the black leather sofa Helsi was currently lounging on.

She liked the way it was used to the right amount, and would sink when she’d sit on it. She and Helsi had a movie night tradition on Fridays where they would binge a few movies in a row every week, cuddling on the couch.

Last week was a continuation of some Disney movies; Pocahontas, The Lion King, and Helsi’s personal favorite, Mulan.

The apartment had a faded light blue floral wallpaper, an old but nice touch anyway. It gave the small place a less stuffy feel.

Stepping into the shower stall, Nairobi removed her sweat stained clothing and turned on the shower faucet, letting the lukewarm water, a blessing that it was lukewarm and not flat out cold, wash over her body.

She sighed, thinking about the past few days and how she came to befriend a whole new gaggle of people for the joint case of helping Helsi get better.

She was so happy that so many people are willing to put an effort into helping her best friend, but was afraid of how he might take it.

Helsi is a sweet person by nature, but even the sweetest of people sometimes don’t appreciate when a bunch of strangers break the law for them behind their backs.

Wrapping a clean towel around her body and a smaller one around her head, she stepped out of the bathroom and called for Helsi to get in there while the water is still tolerable.

Helsi thanked her with a kiss to the cheek as he passed her by on his way to the bathroom.

She put on an oversized t-shirt, one of Helsi’s band t-shirts, and clean underwear, grabbed her phone, and sat cross legged on the couch.

She opened up the group chat that Martín had created for them and scrolled through the new messages, something about Denver burning his hand while helping Monica cook (again), and Marseille sharing funny cat videos.

With an eyeroll, she send a quick message.

**The Secret Circle**

**Me:** yo

 **Me:** when’s the ‘delegation’ getting here

 **Me:** I wanna make dinner but idk if you’ve already eaten

 **Bastard:** i’ve been eyeballs deep in textbooks today I haven’t eaten anything

 **Denny Boy:** ‘balls’ lol

 **Me:** okay so martín is joining

 **Me:** marseille, andrés, bogotá?

 **Me:** y’all eating

 **The Mountain:** i’ll have whatever you give me, jefa

 **Bastard:** ew

 **Fancy Art Major™️:** i’ve already eaten, thanks.

 **Steve Irwin:** i’ve eaten too

 **Steve Irwin:** i had to feed sofía so

 **Me:** okay when are y’all getting here

 **Bastard:** i’m already at andrés’ place

 **Bastard:** we’ll pick up marseille and bogotá in 20 minutes

 **Bastard:** all in all we should be there in like 40-45 minutes

 **Me:** okay losers see you then

They were coming to help Helsi study, now that Andrés got the question sheets already. She had no idea how he did it, the guy had a terrifying glint in his eyes, but she was glad he was doing whatever it is that he did to help Helsi.

Marseille was coming because he was the only other medical field student in their friend group, Martín because obviously he wouldn’t pass a chance to flirt his ass off, Andrés because he was Andrés and he was weird like that, and Bogotá… well, she had no idea why Bogotá was coming, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked having his cool tempered presence beside her to counter her own hotheadedness in case things went awry.

She got up and busied herself in making dinner, Helsi joining her about ten minutes later wearing only black shorts. She would have to tell him to get dressed before the boys arrived.

But then again, he had no idea they were coming…

In any case, she would come up with an excuse.

Helsi frowned at the increased amount of food they were preparing, but didn’t comment on it. Most likely thinking she’d put them in plastic containers and freeze them for later. It was a strategy that helped them so many times that they made a habit of it.

Just as Helsi took out the fresh dinner rolls from the over, the doorbell rang.

“i’ll get it!” she said and hastily made her way to the door, opening it, and revealing the four buffoons and a bonus Sofía.

They barely made it through the threshold, when loud steps announced Helsi making his way to them.

What happened next was a scene straight out of a comedy film: Helsi froze in his place upon seeing Martín and the others, Martín froze upon seeing a very half naked Helsi, and the rest of them just looked on, transfixed.

A tiny noise escaped Martín’s mouth, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut with a hand and looked away and on the ground, suddenly finding his martens very interesting.

Everyone else looked away from an embarrassed Helsi, very self conscious being looked at like that while just in shorts. Well. Everyone except Andrés, who looked at Helsi in fascination.

“Andrés, have some shame, will you?” said Nairobi, dragging Bogotá out of the way and closing the door, not letting go of Bogotá’s sweater sleeve.

“Nairobi, my dear, i’m an artist!” Said Andrés, stalking forward towards a creeped out Helsi and circling him like a shark, “and this-“ he gestured at Helsi, “is a damn fine work of art.” He looked appreciatively at Helsi’s body, “Say, Helsinki. Would you be open to do some nude modeling?”

“Andrés!” cried Martín, seemingly snapping out of whatever gay panic episode he was going through, and moving to drag Andrés away from Helsi, “Helsi, sweetheart, can you _please_ go put something on? For the sake of my poor heart.”

Martín didn’t seem to notice the term of endearment slipping up, but Helsi sure did. His cheeks warmed up and he mumbled something and left immediately.

“You didn’t let him answer.” Mumbled Andrés dejectedly, looking at Helsi’s retreating figure.

“You can’t just offer people to _nude model_ for you!” protested Martín, arms raised in the air.

“Why not? You agreed to it when I asked _you_.”

“I’m a slut! there’s a difference!”

Nairobi, who was still grabbing Bogotá by the sleeve, heard marseille mutter “get a grip, dude.” And turned away from the bickering idiots in time to see Bogotá look away from her quickly. She wondered what that was about. She shook her head and finally released Bogotá’s sleeve to usher everyone to the living room and get them to help her set the table for dinner.

Bogotá readily agreed, followed by Martín and Marseille. Andrés opted to sink into the couch, with Sofía settled in his lap.

He looked so out of place in their shabby apartment with his maroon turtleneck, black jeans, and black, heeled boots. Legs crossed and caressing Sofía’s fur like a supervillain petting their cat.

Helsi came back wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. She approved his choice of wardrobe, preferring comfort over elegance herself while in their home. Andrés de Fonollosa and his turtlenecks be damned!

Dinner was a quiet affair, everyone too tired and too busy shoving food in their mouths to say anything.

After they were done, they piled the plates in the sink, and Nairobi was about to do them when Bogotá blocked her way and told her he’d do them himself.

After a brief argument, they agreed to do them together.

They stood beside each other on the sink, bogotá scrubbing and washing, and Nairobi drying. Arms and hips bumping into the other while they worked quietly.

She enjoyed being beside him. She liked how gentle and quiet he often was, only bickering with Martín because they were old friends and it was a habit. He was caring and observant, enough to notice the habits and preferences of people on his team and accommodate them.

She knew he liked her, even the blind could see the way he looked at her, but she was waiting for him to make a move first. She didn’t want to be the one doing everything.

When they went back to the living room, they found Marseille, Helsi, and Martín sitting on the floor with textbooks and notebooks and all sorts of study material spread out on the floor.

“Good, you’re here.” Said Marseille, looking up at them, “Now we can begin.”

She sat next to Marseille, with Bogotá next to her, Martín next to him, and finally Helsi next to Martín.

Martín reached into his backpack and retrieved black rimmed reading glasses, pushing his messy fringe back and putting them on.

He handed Helsi a piece of paper and noticed Helsi was staring at him.

“what? Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” answered Helsi quietly, reached over and pushing a few strands of hair from Martín’s face, “I just think you look really nice in glasses.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, before breaking eye contact, Martín awkwardly coughing and all but throwing the paper at Helsi and busying himself with one of the textbooks, blushing furiously.

Nairobi and Bogotá exchanged a knowing look and turned to see Marseille sporting the world famous “Marseille Face of Asexual Disappointment”

 _Oh boy._ She thought to herself. _This is gonna be one long night_.

She texted an a simple update to the group chat saying “the gays are at it again.” With a sneaky snap of Martín and Helsi doing their best to avoid each other’s gazes, and turned to sort through the textbooks.

They had so much work to do before the week was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really enjoyed writing my baby nairobi’s pov! i think she provided a fresh perspective on things :)  
> what do you think?


	8. The Intervention: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finals weeks and what follows...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve had this particular chapter in my mind for the past week, so enjoy and tell me what you think!

**_Mirko_ **

The past three weeks had been the craziest in Mirko’s entire life.

What started as one surprise evening visit, though a surprise to him only since Nairobi already knew, continued on to last the whole week before finals.

He was shocked at first to find his crush and some of their friends in the living room of _his_ apartment, and then it turned out that they were there to help him study? Even though everyone was busy with their own material to study? To say he was overwhelmed was an understatement.

He noticed they were focusing on specific areas, Martín checking his phone every time they finished with one area, but Mirko chose not to question it.

Andrés’ mysterious presence was telling enough that they were doing something they didn’t want Mirko to know about.

Not to mention the tense glances Martín and Nairobi kept exchanging the first few nights.

The group changed some members each night, only Martín was the constant. The second night Denver and Monica replaced Andrés and Marseille, the night after that Raquel and Tatiana, and so on.

It warmed his heart to see all of them come together to help him like that. And he vowed to repay them somehow. He just needed to find out how.

Finals weeks, there were two of them, were absolute hell.

He didn’t know how else to describe them.

Just pure hell.

They barely got through it in one piece, surviving on coffee and spite.

Martín looked dreadful the few times he got to see him, hair even messier than usual, the skin around his eyes bruised blue, coffee cup perpetually in his hand. It was clear he wasn’t sleeping well, if at all.

The rest weren’t doing so well, either.

Even Andrés, who was normally so put together and elegant, was feeling the effects.

Which was why, as soon as they all finished their finals, they took a few days to sleep it off.

As soon as they got home from uni that last day, Mirko and Nairobi collapsed into their respective beds, barely managing to change into their pajamas, and slept like the dead through the day.

The next day Nairobi informed him of the existence of a group chat and asked him if he wanted to join. He kind of felt left out when he found out they’ve all been talking behind his back for over three weeks, but he figured it was for whatever secret purpose they had going on, so he didn’t really mind. He was just happy that they finally added him.

By far the group’s most chaotic person was Denver, as he was in real life, followed closely by the Martín/Bogotá duo, and surprisingly, Andrés.

The calmest of the members were unsurprisingly Sergio, Marseille, and Raquel.

Mirko enjoyed the dynamics of this group, so different yet complementing each other in the best ways possible.

**The Secret Circle**

****

**Denver:** Now that we’ve all rested enough

 **Marseille:** speak for yourself. I still need like at least one more month of sleep

 **Denver:** NOW THAT WE’VE ALL RESTED ENOUGH

 **Denver:** how about we do the thing we agreed to do👀

 **Me:** what thing

 **Monica:** yes! that’s a great idea!

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** we talked about going clubbing to blow off some steam

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** of course we’re all going

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** that means you too

 **Me:** clubbing….

 **Denver:** cmon helsi don’t be a stick in the mud

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** he’s not gonna be a stick in the mud

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** right helsi?🥺

 **Tatiana:** oh my god he’s using the puppy eyes

 **Raquel:** that’s a low blow berrote

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** i’m doing what needs to be done!

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** is it working tho

 **Nairobi:** oh yeah it’s working alright

Mirko looked up to see Nairobi grinning at him, and he gave her his best glare, which fell flat considering he was positively melting over Martín’s words.

“he’s not gonna let me sit this one out, is he?” he sighed.

“nope!” she replied, “he’s really excited about it.” Her voice softened slightly and the image of an excited, bouncy Martín came unbidden to his mind.

It was at that moment he realized that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make Martín happy. Not a frightening thought in the least, he already knew he was attached to the magnetic boy with the stunning blue eyes.

Spending seven nights in a row sitting next to him, feeling his warmth pressed to the side of his leg while they studied, being on the receiving end of his smiles, laughing at his outrageous jokes, and knowing that despite struggling with his own classes, he still made time to come by every night to help Mirko study, Mirko knew he was falling for him.

No use lying to himself about it. It went beyond a simple crush and even if Martín didn’t feel the same about him, he would still stay by his side as long as Martín would have him.

He sighed, remembering Radko one telling him he never did things by halves, and he was right.

Mirko’s heart has a policy of “ go big or go home” .

He turned his attention back to the group chat and decided to answer the question he was asked.

**Me:** okay i’ll go with you

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** FUCK YES

 **Martín** **❤** **️:** YOU WON’T REGRET IT

Warmth blossomed in his chest at Martín’s enthusiastic response.

Oh he was in deep.

The details of the meetup were hashed out in the chat and a time and place were determined after a long and arduous discussion.

Which was how he found himself, two days later, in front of the mirror staring at his anxious reflection. He was wearing a black bomber jacket over a dark blue ‘Queen’ t-shirt and black jeans.

“Helsi! Are you done?” came Nairobi’s voice from the living room, “we need to be in Martín’s place in like 15 minutes!”

He sighed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, pocketing it, and made his way over to her.

She was looking flawless as usual, in a mid thigh length black sequin dress and matching black high heels, hair braided in a crown around her head, silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears, and immaculate makeup.

Mirko muttered a quick prayer for Bogotá’s poor soul, and made his way to her, whistling appreciatively.

She preened under his attention and started doing poses for him.

Taking out his phone, he posed with her for a few selfies before going out.

A taxi dropped them at Martín’s slightly fancy building and they made their way up to his apartment. They knocked on door 27 and heard Martín call from inside.

The door was opened and Mirko’s breath was knocked out of his lungs at the sight of Martín in a sheer black shirt, black jeans, heeled boots, nails painted black, and makeup done to perfection.

His sunset eyeshadow made the blue of his eyes pop in the most stunning way, and Mirko had the sudden urge to touch Martín’s face.

He didn’t, though.

Martín’s face lit up with a beaming smile when he locked eyes with Mirko, “Helsi, hi!”

“Hi, Martín.” Mirko greeted, “ you look amazing.”

Martín bit his lower lip and looked Mirko up and down before saying, “I was just going to say the same thing to you.”

“Yes, hello Martín, i’m fine thanks for asking! Thank you for complementing how _I_ look!” said Nairobi in a mocking sing song voice before pushing past him and going into the apartment.

Mirko and Martín exchanged a look and broke into laughter.

Martín reached to take Mirko’s hand in his, clasping their fingers together, and dragged him inside, “C’mon you should see what Tati is doing.”

Mirko was too hyper-fixated on the feel of Martín’s soft hand in his to register what he said, and when he reached Martín’s bedroom he gawked at the scene displayed in front of him.

Tatiana was on top of Andrés, pinning his arms under her legs, a makeup palette in one hand, and a brush in the other, and she was doing his makeup.

Nairobi was cackling at Andrés’ supremely offended expression and took out her phone from her purse to take a few snaps.

“He wanted to do his own makeup but Tati didn’t want him to ruin her matching makeup theme so she wrestled him to the ground to do it herself.” Explained Martín in a hushed voice, leaning into Mirko.

Deeming Andrés ready to be released, Tatiana rose up and gestured to a disgruntled, but beautiful looking Andrés, making a small “ta daaa!” sound.

The trio clapped for her and he curtsied and thanked them.

She was wearing a tight glittery maroon dress to match with Andrés’ black turtleneck, which seemed to be a theme with him, Mirko mused.

The maroon complemented Tatiana’s complexion and intensified the fiery red of her hair. She looked sublime.

Tatiana decided enough time was wasted and ushered them all out of the apartment, Martín locking the door behind him before taking Mirko’s hand back in his and making their way down with the others.

They found Marseille, Bogotá, Denver, and Monica already at the club, the loud music drowning out Denver’s words of greeting.

The club was slightly dark, with neon lights flashing here and there to create a certain atmosphere that Mirko didn’t think he understood the appeal of. He didn’t exactly see well but Martín’s hand was still in his and he guided him through until they found a table in the corner big enough to entertain all of them.

As soon as they sat down the drinks started pouring, being the designated ‘Responsible Adult’ along with Bogotá, he decided against drinking much.

Martín, though, was another story altogether.

He was apparently excellent at getting drunk.

Mirko watched in fascination as he got progressively drunker throughout the night.

The more he drank the more shameless he became, which, considering Martín’s personality, was saying something.

At one point he got up and dragged Nairobi to the pole in the middle of the dance floor and proceeded to dance in the dirtiest way possible against the pole.

Mirko’s throat went completely dry.

“Damn he wasn’t kidding when he said he was a slut.” Remarked Marseille beside him and gave him a few pats on the back, before getting up to make his way to dance with Andrés and Tatiana.

Mirko tore his eyes away and decided that one more drink wouldn’t hurt.

Bogotá came to plop down next to him a few moments later and they shared a long suffering look over the fact that both of their crushes were grinding against a pole right in front of them.

Cheers to that.

Nairobi made her way back to the table, spotted Bogotá, and immediately dragged him by the hand back to the dance floor. You’d think he was made of feathers, the way he went without protest.

At one point, Andrés came by to grab a drink.

He leaned down so he was face to face with a confused Mirko and said to him , “This is the happiest i’ve seen him be in months.” Mirko assumed he was talking about Martín, so he stayed quiet, “take care of him, will you? He deserves to be happy.”

Mirko nodded and Andrés, satisfied, made his way back to Tatiana.

Mirko decided enough was enough and got up to find Martín to dance with him. He has officially reached his limits.

Martín was still by the pole, but thankfully no longer grinding on it, when Mirko found him. It was Mirko’s turn to take him by the hand, courage bolstered by the few drinks he had and Andrés’ words, and pull the boy to him.

With a surprised “oof”, Martín’s body smacked against Mirko’s and Mirko placed a hand on his waist to steady him.

Martín looked up at Mirko, smiling dazedly because of the alcohol.

“Care for a dance?” Asked Mirko loudly over the deafening sound of the music.

“Thought you’d never ask!” replied Martín.

Mirko grabbed Martín’s hand and spun him around, the other letting out a delighted laugh.

They danced together for the rest of the night, cocooned in their own little world, Martín’s makeup glittering under the neon lights, sweat beading at his forehead.

He painted the most beautiful sight Mirko had ever seen.

They took a few breaks to rest and for Martín to drink even more, speech slurring by the end of the night.

Bogotá, hair plastered to his head and lipstick smudged on his lips, told them it was time to head home.

Mirko supported Martín as they walked out of the club into the chill of the night, Martín not stable enough to walk on his own.

After a few minutes of stumbling, Mirko stopped Martín and instead offered to carry him Piggyback style.

Martín tightened his arms around Mirko’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of Mirko’s neck.

“I didn’t know I was lonely til I saw your face.” Mirko heard him mutter quietly.

He didn’t want to reply now, when Martín was drunk and most likely wouldn’t remember it, so he stayed silent.

The silence was broken by Andrés’ deep voice from a few paces ahead of them singing ‘Ti Amo’.

Martín perked up and joined in, his voice slurring and out of tune.

Soon enough Bogotá, who had Nairobi tucked under his arm, Marseille, and Tatiana joined in.

Then Denver and Monica.

And lastly, Mirko.

Their drunken voiced filled the quiet of the streets and Mirko thought he could get used to this.


	9. of tailored suits and fitting rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrés dragged the boys to shop for suits, and they had something to discuss while waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise pov #2!!

**_Bogotá_ **

****

****

****

The small area where they sat to wait for Andrés to finish fitting his suits had Taylor Swift songs playing from the speakers. He vaguely recognized the song but couldn’t place the name.

Martín, though, was mouthing every word where he sat on the leather bench, legs crossed, and back leaning along Helsinki’s arm, while flipping through a magazine he had found on the small glass table.

Andrés came out of the fitting room a few seconds later, wearing a chocolate brown fitted suit, striped with faint black lines.

He cocked his eyebrow at them in a silent question.

Martín shook his head, Bogotá made a face, and Helsinki shrugged.

A resounding no.

He left the room to find another suit.

“What is he buying suits for?” asked Bogotá, reaching for his phone to check the time, they had two hours before their shift, “doesn’t he have enough already?”

Martín hummed before closing the magazine and throwing if haphazardly on the table, “it’s for a ‘special occasion’ he said.”

“what does that actually mean?” asked Helsinki, and Martín turned his head to look up at him with a mock serious expression, “you’d better off not knowing.” He whispered.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Martín broke into giggles and Helsinki rolled his eyes fondly at him.

They had been getting closer as of late, most prominently after that night at the club.

Nothing big, just casual touches, sharing personal space, and longing stares when the other wasn’t looking.

Bogotá recognized it easily because that was what he was doing with Nairobi.

He thought that after kissing her in the club things would get easier.

They didn’t.

The next shift they had together, he tried to gain her attention but she just acted like nothing had happened and business was as usual.

The disappointment hit Bogotá hard.

Did he read her wrong? Was she not interested in him? Was he that undesirable that she pretended that the kiss didn’t happen?

“Hey, mister big and broody!” Martín said and snapped his fingers to get Bogotá’s attention, “what’s gotten you all cloudy like that?”

Bogotá sighed and shook his head, not sure if he wanted to tell Martín and Helsinki what happened.

“Yeah, nuh uh.” Martín said and sat up straight, foregoing his human backrest and opting to focus all his attention on Bogotá, “that’s not gonna cut it for me, big guy. Tell me what’s going on with you. You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Martín.” Murmured Helsinki, leaning down to rest his chin on Martín’s shoulder and give Bogotá an apologetic look, “maybe he doesn’t want to talk.”

Martín took a moment to look startled at the proximity before he swallowed it down and knocked his temple gently against Helsinki’s, “Nah, Helsi. If he wanted to bottle shit up, he wouldn’t have befriended a nosy fucker like me.”

Bogotá wanted to argue, he really did. But Martín made a strong case. He was compelled to agree.

He hummed in agreement and Martín made a victorious sound.

“Now spill.”

And Bogotá did.

He told them about the night in the club when he danced with Nairobi, how he tried to look for any signs that she might be uncomfortable with him before he went in for the kiss, how she _kissed back,_ and how she acted like nothing had happened when he saw her again.

They both listened patiently while he recounted the events, both sporting identical puzzled expressions.

When he finished they exchanged a look, communicating something he didn’t quite catch, then looked back at him.

“Did you talk to her about it?” Asked Helsinki gently.

“No?” he answered, “I didn’t want to bother her. What if she didn’t want to talk about it? Nairobi is a sweet person, it makes sense that she would want to sweep it under the rug to not hurt my feelings. Not her fault my ugly ass thought she was actually interested.”

“Woah woah woah!” blurted Martín, hands waving in a halting motion, “let me stop you right there, dude.”

He turned abruptly around, causing a startled Helsinki to lean back. He grabbed Helsinki’s face with both hands and leaned close until they were a hair’s width apart, “What i’m about to say is a purely friendly personal observation and holds no weight whatsoever regarding my feelings. Okay?”

“… okay?” answered Helsinki hesitantly, eyes wide.

“okay.” Repeated Martín and released him, turning back to face Bogotá, and taking a deep breath, “listen to me, asshole.” He started and Bogotá had a feeling he was about to be attacked with aggressive affection, “You’re really hot. Trust me. i’m gay, i’d know.

Nairobi is neither stupid nor blind to disregard your impressive build and aesthetically pleasing face.” He looked like the words caused him great pain, which considering Martín and Bogotá’s friendship dynamic, it probably did, “ _And_ your attention, in my opinion, wasn’t unwanted.” He finished, crossing his arms and leaning back into Helsinki’s chest.

“I don’t know, Martín.” He mumbled, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Martín’s words made him feel lighter but he still was unsure about Nairobi’s feelings, “maybe I should just leave her alone you know?”

“No!” Martín wagged a finger in his direction threateningly, “We do _not_ pull a ‘Love, Rosie” in this house!”

“Who’s pulling a ‘Love, Rosie’?” Andrés’ voice startled all three of them and they turned to the entrance of the waiting room to see Andrés standing in the door in a stunning navy velvet suit, _brandishing a pocket knife_ and pointing it at them.

All three of them had their hands up in the air instantly, Martín being the traitor that he is, pointed at Bogotá.

Andrés stalked forward until he was standing in front of Bogotá. He leant down and pressed his forehead to Bogotá, who had gone still as a statue, and said: “You will _not_ pull a ‘Love, Rosie” on Nairobi.” He said in a low, threatening voice, “She doesn’t deserve it, and neither do you.

You will get your shit together and talk to her and tell her everything, got it?”

Bogotá swallowed, “got it.”

“Good.” Said Andrés, and leaned back up, sporting a big smile and twirling around, “how do I look?”

Martín whistled and Helsinki clapped for him. Andrés’ smile stretched into something more genuine. He pushed the pocket knife close with a slender finger and extended his hand into the inside pocket of the jacket to place it there.

“Alright, gentlemen!” he clapped his hands together, “I think we’re done here. So let’s go grab lunch because I have an appointment to get to in about…” he checked his watch, “two hours.”

With Andrés and Martín’s words ringing in his mind, Bogotá trailed behind the boys to get lunch in a fancy restaurant of Andrés’ choosing.

He watched Martín talk animatedly with Andrés, gesturing with one hand, while the other was clasped in Helsinki’s, their fingers interlaced.

He felt a small pang of jealousy at the sight, and decided he would heed Andrés’ words and talk to Nairobi.

If he had even the smallest of chances to have what Martín and Helsinki had with Nairobi, he would seize it.

The afternoon breezed by in a blur of chatter and delicious food, and soon Bogotá found himself headed to Dulce Noche with Helsinki, after saying their goodbyes to Andrés and Martín. The former heading to his mysterious appointment, and the latter going back to his apartment. Martín made Helsinki promise to update him if anything happened, thinking Bogotá didn’t hear them.

As if Martín could be discreet about anything. That boy was the human embodiment of a broadway performance.

He found Nairobi chatting with Moscow at the register and greeted them both, before turning to address Moscow, “hey boss, mind if I talk to Nairobi in private for a few minutes?”

He felt Nairobi’s gaze on him but he chose to focus on Moscow for the time being.

“Of course, son.” He gave him a knowing smile, “do you need me to leave?”

“No, we’ll talk in the storage room.” He told him, emphasizing on the storage room, and by the looks of it, Moscow had gotten the message to give them some privacy.

He finally looked at Nairobi, who had an unreadable expression on her face, and said “let’s go?”

She nodded and led the way.

He followed her, jittery, heart thumping loudly in his ears.

Millions of scenarios rushed through his mind, as he tried to clamp down on his anxiety.

Now that they were in the storage room, he was unsure how he was going to start.

“Got something to tell me, cariño?” she asked him patiently after a few moments of silence.

He took a deep breath.

“about the night at the club…” he began, and look into her eyes, searching for any sign that she was dodging it.

“Yes? What about it?”

“Do you remember what happened?” he inquired quietly, “between us?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “between us?” she repeated.

“yeah.” He exhaled.

She shook her head and he closed his eyes in relief. She didn’t ignore him. She simply didn’t remember.

“Bogotá… did we?” the apprehension in her voice had him snap his eyes open.

“oh no! of course not!” he spluttered defensively, “I would _never_ take advantage of you like that!”

She huffed a breath and placed her hand on her heart, “oh thank god! I did _not_ want it to go like that.”

“what?”

“oh come on!” she protested, throwing her hands in the air, “it’s not as if I was discreet about having an interest in you!”

“you did?”

“I _do.”_

“ _oh.”_

She gave him a sardonic smile, “I was waiting for you to say something, actually.” She mumbled and leaned her back on the table behind her.

“I kinda did.” He chuckled.

“what do you mean?”

“I kissed you.”

“you _kissed_ me? In the club?!”

He nodded affirmation and brought her hands up to rub at her eyes, “oh god I can’t believe I was so drunk I forgot something _that_ important.” She mumbled dejectedly.

Bogotá took a few steps forward until he stood in front of her, and covered her hands with his, bringing them down from her face.

He looked down at her embarrassed, anxious, _beautiful,_ face and the corners of his lips pulled up in an unbidden smile.

His heart was soaring.

“how about we give it another go? I bet you’d remember it this time.”

She pushed herself up on her tip toes, grabbing the collars of his shirt, “Let’s see if you make it memorable.”

He pressed his lips to hers softly at first, a chaste kiss, not wanting to rush it. His hands circled her waist, bringing her body flush against his, and she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.

The stayed there for what felt like an eternity, in each other’s embrace, breaths mingling and tongues dancing, until a knock on the door startled them apart.

“Yo!” came Denver’s voice, “this isn’t the bathroom at Wendy’s! You can’t hook up in here, I need some flour!”

They looked at each other and broke into breathless laughter, Nairobi burying her face in Bogotá’s shaking chest.

They left the room hand in hand, giving Denver an identical middle finger with their free hands.

Helsinki immediately snapped a picture of them and sent it to Martín.

Not a second later, Bogotá’s phone pinged in his back pocket.

He swiped it open and checked the notification.

**Dumbass Supreme:** oh you smooth motherfucker

Bogotá chuckled at the phone screen and pocketed it, deciding to let Martín stew a little more before responding to him.

Besides, he had something else to focus on now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing bogotá was pretty fun!  
> what do you think of our hets finally getting things going in the right direction?   
> about damn time i say.


	10. rain and gay panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a late shift for Helsinki and Martín decided to keep him company until closing time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been listening to James Vincent McMorrow on repeat pls no judgement.

**_Martín_ **

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He knew he was being annoying, but he didn’t have the heart to leave Helsi working alone in the café so late.

Martín was the only one left with him, other customers having long been gone, and other staff members had ended their shifts hours ago. The only one who was supposed to be with him was Nairobi, but she had a date with Bogotá and Martín assured her he’d not leave Helsi by his lonesome.

In all honesty, his heart was aflutter at the concept of being alone with Helsinki.

Ever since he woke up in his apartment, hungover and feeling worse for wear, with one thought on his mind: dancing with Helsinki under the neon lights, being held by his strong arms, and feeling those gorgeous eyes fixed on him, he knew he wanted to get even closer to the other boy.

The casual touches they’ve been exchanging were a big step forward, but he was greedy for more. Every time he was close to him, he was overwhelmed by the desire to get closer, to touch, to feel, to breathe in his scent and let himself be free.

But he didn’t think it was right to force Helsinki to go fast. It wasn’t fair. He deserved more, deserved better.

And Martín would give him his all, because he was worth it.

He was worth the wait, worth the longing, worth the yearning, worth the sleepless nights staring at the ceiling thinking of how he smiled at Martín that day, or how his big hand had pushed Martín’s hair away from his forehead, his thumb leaving a tingling trail on Martín’s skin.

He sighed, leaned back in his chair and watched Helsi as he was mopping the dark wood floor of the Dulce Noche, the soft patter of the rain outside being their only companion.

He tried earlier to make Helsi allow him to help with cleaning, but Helsi being Helsi, gently but firmly refused.

Instead he talked about anything and everything to pass the time, from childhood memories, to his favorite places in Buenos Aires, to his and Andrés’ shenanigans and how the duo terrorized their teachers in secondary school. He told Helsi how he had started secondary right after he moved into Madrid. He had no friends and his accent made him stand out. He was so lonely until this one rich kid sat down next to him at lunch, quietly pulled out a sketchbook and started working on a drawing. He didn’t even say anything to Martín, and Martín thought it was a one time thing. But the boy kept coming back every single day until Martín started engaging him in conversation and they got along like a house on fire. And the rest was history.

Helsinki remarked that he and Andrés were so similar but so different at the same time. Martín didn’t know what to say to that so he changed the subject.

Now, though, all Martín did was pretend to work on his paper and longingly gaze at Helsi.

His eyes trailed appreciatively along the arch of Helsinki’s back as he bent down again to mop the floor, his back muscles bulging when he reached for the water bucket.

Martín was always honest with himself as a rule. He didn’t see the use of being in denial. And right now? He wanted nothing more than those arms to be wrapped up around him. And not even sexually. He just wanted to be in his arms.

He tore his eyes away when it looked like Helsi was about to turn, and made a grab for his phone.

He opened up Andrés’ contact number and sent him a text.

 **Me:** i’m losing it

 **Me:** send help

A few seconds later his phone pinged, indicating Andrés’ response.

 **Don Corleone™️:** what’s helsinki doing this time

 **Me:** nothing he’s just mopping the floor and i’m watching him work

 **Don Corleone™️:** and obviously yearning instead of doing something productive like wooing him

 **Me:** i woo him!

 **Me:** i woo him all the time!

 **Don Corleone™️:** correct me if i’m wrong but wasn’t the last real progress between you two like two weeks ago at the club?

 **Me:** …

 **Don Corleone™️:** precisely

 **Don Corleone™️:** you need to up your flirting game martín

 **Don Corleone™️:** even bogotá is better than you at this

 **Don Corleone™️:** bogotá!!!

 **Me:** shut up don’t remind me

 **Me:** can’t believe that oaf is now dating and i’m still stuck in the gay panic zone

 **Don Corleone™️:** you really like this guy don’t you

Martín stared at the screen for a few moments, then looked up to see Helsi finally finishing up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and giving Martín a tired smile.

His heart thumped in his chest and he returned the smile with his own bigger one and a bonus wink, to which Helsi rolled his eyes and turned to put the items away.

He didn’t need to think this particular question through, the answer was clear as day.

 **Me:** yeah I do

 **Me:** he makes me happy

 **Don Corleone™️:** then don’t let him get away from you

 **Don Corleone™️:** also my nude modeling offer still stands if he reconsiders 😉

 **Me:** the only one who’s allowed to see him nude is me

 **Me:** get your own hot serbian giant, fonollosa

 **Don Corleone™️:** ugh you’re no fun

 **Don Corleone™️:** i gotta go, this guy’s being a pain in my ass

 **Me:** don’t gouge his eyes out

 **Don Corleone™️:** no promises 🙂

Martín chuckled at the screen and looked up when Helsi wearily dropped down in the seat in front of him.

“you okay?” asked Martín, reaching out and laying his hand on the table, palm up. Helsi smiled at it and reached over, covering Martín’s hand with his own and giving it a squeeze, “now I am.”

His heart skipped a beat, Helsi was getting dangerously good at this. A far cry from the blushing mess he was two months ago.

Oh how the tables have turned.

It was now Martín’s turn to blush and look away, breaking the eye contact despite what Andrés told him about upping his game.

He supposed he could be a useless gay for just tonight and try to be flirtatious later.

He was warm, holding his crush’s hand, and for the first time, they were alone.

No one would blame him if he chose to be soft and enjoy being in the moment this one time.

“I’m gonna head home now cause it’s late.” Helsi’s voice broke him out of his reverie, “are you taking a taxi home?”

“Actually, if you don’t mind,” replied Martín, voice hesitant, “I was thinking I could walk you home? To make it up to you for making you put up with me past working hours.” He snickered.

“I didn’t ‘put up with you’, I enjoyed your company.” Said Helsi with a frown, “I’m perfectly capable of kicking you out if you’d been bothering me, Martín.

But you don’t. I like you and I enjoy your company.

isn’t that obvious by now?”

Martín swallowed thickly and reached his other hand to draw nervous shapes on Helsi’s, different formulas and math equations. A nervous habit stuck with him since middle school days that he couldn’t quite get rid of.

“I enjoy your company too.” He mumbled and wanted to smack his head against the wall for panicking so quickly about such a simple statement.

Why did he panic? He _liked_ Helsinki and the guy just told him that he liked him! What more did he want? Didn’t he just get told to get his shit together by Andrés? Why couldn’t his brain be useful for once?

His internal tirade was interrupted by a warm hand on his cheek that had him look up in surprise into the concerned face of Helsinki.

“Are you okay?”

Martín was currently internally screaming in all the languages he could speak, all four of them.

He was _not_ okay.

He leaned instinctively into the touch, his brain going a mile a minute trying to catch up with his body’s responses.

Being touch starved was his Achilles’ heel.

“I’m okay.” He murmured.

Helsi withdrew his hand and Martín instantly missed its warmth.

“You said you wanted to walk me home?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and Martín nodded, “it’s raining outside. Are you sure you wanna walk?”

“I have an umbrella we can share?”

Helsinki looked dubious at the idea of sharing Martín’s tiny umbrella but he rolled with it anyway.

“sure, just let me get my stuff.”

He gathered his things and shoved them into his backpack while he waited for Helsi to come back, all while furiously whispering obscenities at himself for being so off his game today.

Helsi tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention and pressed his lips together to smother a smile at him when he jumped in surprise.

They walked outside and Martín waited for Helsinki to lock up before opening up his umbrella and offering it to him, being the taller of the two.

He momentarily wondered how they would walk under the umbrella without getting wet before Helsinki solved that problem by putting his free arm around Martín, pressing him close to his body.

Martín could feel the warmth radiating off him even through the layers of the sweater and the jacket and he reached his arm around Helsi and rested his hand on his waist, clutching at the fabric of the jacket.

He breathed a contented sigh, choosing to push the lump of nerves away and focus on the moment.

Street lights blinked above them and cars sped by, the late hour and the rain causing the streets to be fairly void of people.

Martín suppressed a shiver when the air got crisper than it was when he first arrived at the café. In retrospect, he should’ve worn more than one sweater.

“Are you cold?” he heard Helsi ask. Apparently he didn’t hide the shiver well enough.

“Nah I just like shimmying.” He joked.

“Martín…”

The admonishing tone of his voice had Martín look up to find Helsi looking down at him with pinched eyebrows and dismay painting his features.

“Don’t worry, Helsi, i’ll be alright.” He tried to assure him, “it’s just a little chill.”

Instead of replying to Martín, he stopped and looked around, spotting a supermarket, and dragging Martín with him towards it.

Before Martín could do anything other than make weird questioning noises, Helsinki closed the umbrella and hauled Martín inside.

The inside of the supermarket was warm and Martín instantly felt better now that he was out of the cold.

Taking a romantic stroll in this weather was really stupid of him.

He rubbed his hands together for extra warmth and looked around to find Helsinki taking off his jacket.

“What are you doing? You can’t strip down here, it’s against shop policy.”

Helsinki rolled his eyes and moved towards Martín with the jacket in his hands, intent clear.

“Hey, no, come on you need it more than I do!” he tried to protest, backing away a few steps.

“Martín, i’m basically a walking furnace.” He told him, taking a few steps forward to catch up to Martín, “trust me, I won’t catch my death if I took it off.

Unlike _someone_ I know.” He stared at Martín pointedly until he caved and shuffled closer so Helsinki could drape the jacket on his shoulders.

Wearing it properly, Martín looked down at the massive sleeves that completely obscured his hands, and up at Helsinki who was giving him an unabashedly fond look.

“I look tiny.” He deadpanned.

“you _are_ tiny.”

“not _this_ tiny.”

“you look adorable.”

“that’s gay.”

“never said it wasn’t.”

“are you gonna buy anything or just stand there and flirt right in front of me?” interrupted the clerk, who was watching their entire exchange.

With twin mortified expressions, they scrambled to look for something to buy.

Martín came back with Oreos and a carton of milk, and Helsinki brought cereal and a 1 kg bag of jelly beans. Martín wondered if he could convince him to share. He’d have to seduce him for it, most likely.

They placed their things on the counter and Helsinki reached into his bag to take out his wallet, “I’m paying.”

“No you’re not.” Said Martín and pushed his hand away. Helsinki was about to protest but Martín shushed him, “Actually neither of us are paying.”

A look of confusion crossed his features as he watched Martín pull a black credit card from his own wallet, “Andrés is.” He said with a cheshire grin.

“you _stole_ Andrés’ credit card?!” Helsinki spluttered.

“of course not! He gave it to me!”

After he paid for their stuff and they were outside again, the rainfall slowing down a bit, he turned to Helsinki with a toothy smile, “I was lying, I totally stole his credit card.”

Martín watched Helsinki break into loud laughter as they walked down the street with a big smile, warm from the oversized jacket and the way Helsi’s eyes crinkled when he laughed.


	11. movie night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s the last weekend before the new semester starts and Nairobi decides to host a movie night at her and Helsi’s place.

**_Martín_ **

“you see the problem is,” he said and waved a hand for emphasis, “whenever i’m with him, I feel so happy. But whenever I wanna make a move, I freeze!”

He was laying down on Nairobi’s bed, head cradled in her lap, her hands threading through his hair, a small packet of tissues sitting on his chest, and his feet resting on Monica’s lap while she painted his toes.

It was movie night and Nairobi had invited the whole squad to her and Helsinki’s tiny apartment to stay over for a murder mystery movies binge.

Denver, Bogotá, and Marseille were in the kitchen preparing snacks. Andrés was in the living room, Sofía sitting obediently on his shoulder, tiny face rubbing at his temple while he facetimed Tatiana, who was visiting her parents and couldn’t attend the gathering.

Sergio and Raquel were on their way, having stopped by Rio’s house to pick him up and reassure his parents that they weren’t up for any nefarious activities.

Sergio was the best for the task since his face promised that he most likely hadn’t done anything remotely fun in his entire life.

Helsinki went out to get them drinks, wine for Andrés, juice for Rio, and beer for the rest of them.

Martín sighed and looked despondently at the ceiling, “I don’t know if even likes me that way!” he exclaimed and got lightly smacked on the forehead by Nairobi as a response.

He rubbed at the spot and gave her an affronted look, “what was that for!”

“being an idiot?” she raised her eyebrows at him. Looking at her upside down was making him dizzy but he maintained eye contact.

“I wasn’t being an idiot.” He mumbled.

“even _blind_ people can see he likes you, dumbass.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Martín he walked with you under the rain, and gave you his jacket!” added Monica. He had no idea why he divulged all that information to them, but he guessed he felt comfortable with them. They were good friends and they wanted what’s best for him. He had to keep that in mind.

“okay yeah but that doesn’t mean anything cause Helsi is generally a sweet person who likes helping people.”

Nairobi made a hum of agreement and went back to carding her hands through his hair.

“that doesn’t mean what he does with you is any less special, though.” She said.

He stayed silent for a few moments, mulling over her words.

She was right, as she often was, but he just couldn’t shake the anxiety that kept him from asking Helsinki out officially.

Was it rejection he was afraid of?

He didn’t know anymore.

“I don’t know, Nai.” He sighed, “I just feel helpless, you know?”

“it’s alright, cariño.” She smoothed his hair away from his forehead and planted a gentle kiss there, “let things take their natural course and everything will work out eventually, I promise.”

He was skeptical but he guessed there was no need to argue with Nairobi on this. He’d only get smacked again, more forcefully this time.

Monica finished painting his toenails and made a small “voila!”, gesturing at his feet. She had painted them a beautiful aquamarine color to “match with your eyes!” she said.

He thanked her and she removed his feet and set them carefully on the bed to let the nail polish dry, and crawled to lay down beside him, head on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist.

He smiled down at her, her curls tickling his nose, and looked up at Nairobi who smiled and shrugged as if to say “deal with it”.

He didn’t mind, quite the opposite actually. He felt safe, warm, _loved._

Something he didn’t think he’d feel outside of his little group.

He put his arm on top of hers and closed his eyes, breathing in.

“what on earth is going on here on this day?” came Helsinki’s voice from the door, and Martín cracked open an eye to look at him bemusedly, “are you having a cuddle party _without_ me?” he clutched his heart in mock hurt, “the betrayal… it hurts…”

Martín chuckled and felt the vibration of Monica’s giggles against his chest, “care to join us?” he asked and felt Nairobi’s fingers tighten on his hair. He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad sign, so he chose the first.

“I don’t think that bed’s gonna hold my weight on top of all of you.” He laughed, “come on, Sergio and the rest just arrived. We’re gonna start the first movie.”

He said and turned to leave, “hurry up or Denver is gonna eat all the snacks!” he added with his back to them.

The last statement was enough to spur them into action, they quickly abandoned ship and scurried after Helsinki to the living room.

They found that Helsinki had claimed the other end of the leather couch, and Nairobi pushed Martín to sit next to him, opting to sit next to Andrés, who had finished talking with Tatiana and is now engaging in a silent glaring match with Raquel.

From the looks of it, Raquel was winning.

Martín sunk into the couch with a contented sigh. It felt like sitting on a marshmallow.

Everyone settled in to start the first movie, Murder on the Orient Express. Raquel’s choice.

Sergio and Raquel had brought bean bags with them for the ones not seated on the couch so they can all be comfortable. Bogotá sat on his own bean bag in front of Nairobi, with her legs swung over his shoulders. Sergio and Raquel shared one next to him, Monica and Denver shared another, Rio was sitting on his own in front of Andrés with his head being Sofía’s new seat, and finally Marseille who chose to sit on one of the dining chairs to Andrés’ right.

Halfway through the movie and Martín started feeling the effects of the cold he caught from the previous night, his whole body was aching and he leaned sideways to rest his head on Helsi’s shoulder.

A moment later he felt Helsi’s big arm snake around his waist and pull him closer, resting his hand on Martín’s hip.

For a few moments Martín couldn’t breathe properly, before relaxing into the half embrace and rest his temple on Helsinki’s chest, turning his attention back to the movie.

Sergio was commenting something about Willem Dafoe’s accent sounding off, and Nairobi argued back that “dude, it’s fucking Willem Dafoe! He can pull off anything, this is probably on purpose.”. A few others piped in with their suspicions on who the culprit was, some calling out Dafoe’s character, and others being extremely suspicious and skeptical about everything.

“Michelle Pfeiffer is being hella suspicious.” Remarked Rio at one point, and everyone wholeheartedly agreed.

Martín wasn’t feeling the excitement for the movie as he was busy feeling simultaneously wretched and on cloud nine. The cold was making him drowsy and tired, but being pressed to Helsi’s side was like a shock of electricity to his system, not allowing him to slip off into sleep in favor of savoring the moment for as long as it lasts.

His body was warm and soft and Martín has half a mind to just say fuck it and fall asleep right then and there.

He felt the weight of Helsi’s head rest on top of his and felt all kinds of emotions bouncing through his chest, threatening to burst out of him.

“You feel too warm.” He heard him mumble against his hair, “You caught a cold, didn’t you?”

Martín stuffed his little tissues packet in his pocket stealthily and shook his head, “no, sir.”

He felt Helsi’s sigh blowing some strands of hair, “You need to take more care of yourself.” He whispered, careful not to disturb the others’ enjoyment of the movie.

“I have you for that, don’t I?”

“You do have me.”

Martín closed his eyes and buried his face in Helsinki’s chest, feeling his hand squeeze reassuringly on Martín’s hip.

The first movie ended and some of the others left their spots for a small break before the second movie, Knives Out, started.

Not that Martín would know, of course.

He stayed rooted to his place, every cell in his body protesting at the mere thought of getting up.

Feeling weighed down and exhausted, he decided to surrender to the call of unconsciousness.

A while later, he didn’t know if it was minutes or hours, he felt himself getting lifted into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“Helsinki.” The name left his lips with a soft sigh.

“i’m taking you to bed.” He heard him say.

“your bed?”

“yeah.” He heard him chuckle.

“at least buy me dinner first.” He mumbled sleepily.

“I will, later.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

Martín felt himself be lowered into the mattress and he clutched at Helsinki’s arm, blearily opening his eyes and squinting at the gentle giant above him.

“stay with me for a bit, please?”

“okay.”

The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he sat down, hand finding Martín’s own and holding it.

Martín didn’t know if it was the fever giving him courage but he felt like he should say something.

“hey.”

“what?”

“I really like you, you know.” He whispered.

A beat of silence, and then a sigh.

“I really like you too.”

The warmth that filled Martín had nothing to do with the fever.

“that- that’s good.” He said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I’m glad you do.”

Helsi laughed.

“Me too.”

Martín felt himself slipping under again and he rubbed his cheek against the pillow tiredly, closing his eyes.

He felt Helsi’s hand push the hair away from his forehead and kiss him there.

“Sleep well, Martín.” was the last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness.


	12. Misunderstandings and Reconciliations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: there’s a little angst here. not too much because i’m a soft gay but still a bit

**_Mirko_ **

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The semester started just as he and Martín were getting closer. Hearing him say he really liked Mirko was something out of a dream. Mirko didn’t think with the way Martín was so skittish lately he would be confessing to any feelings.

Nevertheless, after waking up feeling worse for wear and riddled with a terrible cold, Martín didn’t seem to regret what he said to Mirko.

If anything, he was extra touchy. He sat down next to Mirko at breakfast , wrapped up in his blanket, and leaned his entire weight on Mirko’s side. He smelled like Mirko, too, and it sent goosebumps down his body.

They started texting more frequently, too. Good morning texts and good night texts, random thoughts that crossed Martín’s mind throughout the day, Mirko complaining about how Nairobi and Bogotá are so hands on with each other and how he was jealous and wished Martín was there with him, and watching Martín respond with a slew of incomprehensible nonsense and countless emojis, no doubt having a meltdown.

It always put a smile on Mirko’s face.

At the moment it was over two in the morning and he was on night shift at the hospital, sitting in the break room and texting Martín, who was keeping him company while working on a project.

Mirko talked about his childhood in Serbia, his relationship with his cousin Radko, and how life in Spain compared to life in Serbia.

If he was being honest, he had felt alienated from the community here for so long and was finding it increasingly difficult to cope with being alone in a foreign country with only the bare minimum of vocabulary in his arsenal to get him by.

Radko had joined the army as soon as they got citizenship, leaving Mirko to apply for nursing school after he got rejected by the army because of his injury.

He really enjoyed talking with Martín like this, despite the late hour. It gave him an opportunity to get to know him better without the hustle and bustle of their usual meetings at the café or with their friends where things would get too loud sometimes.

Mirko planned on asking him out for a date the next time they saw each other. He was giddy, and nervous, just thinking about it.

But there was no use wasting their time dancing around each other.

Martín was telling him about his school years here in Spain and how he got closer to Andrés.

After some hesitation, Mirko asked him if there was anything between the two of them, and Martín told him the truth.

He talked about how his crush on the charismatic artist turned into something deeper, more genuine as the years passed. At first he had kept his silence, but after meeting Tatiana in college and Andrés starting to show interest in her, He had told Andrés about how he felt about him.

Mirko could tell it was an emotional landmine for Martín as he told him how he had kissed Andrés, how Andrés kissed back, but then told him they couldn’t be together.

Before Mirko could say anything to him, he got paged into the ER for an emergency.

He automatically put his phone on silent mode, pocketed it and rushed to the emergency room.

After a grueling few hours scrambling to save the patients’ lives, he dragged himself back to the break room and dropped down on the chair.

Exhausted and bleary eyed, he checked the time and saw it was past six in the morning.

He sighed.

One more hour for his shift to end.

He reached into his pocket and fished his phone out, eyes widening at the amount of notifications that popped up as soon as he unlocked it.

He swore under his breath as he read through Martín’s messages.

[2:23 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** and that’s about all there is to know about what happened between me and andrés

[2:25 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** helsi?

-missed call from Martín❤️-

[2:26 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** I know it’s a lot to digest but I swear I don’t feel the same way about him anymore

-missed call from Martín❤️-

[2:28 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** helsi please talk to me

[2:30 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** i’m sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out like that

[2:35 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** i’m such a fuck up i’m so sorry

[2:45 am] **Martín** **❤** **️:** Please don’t hate me

Mirko rubbed at his eyes in frustration. He should have told Martín there was an emergency and he had to go.

He saw a few missed calls from Andrés and decided to call him back, in case Martín was asleep. He didn’t want to disturb him.

“ _Where the fuck have you been?!”_ came Andrés’ angry hushed voice as soon as he picked up the phone. Mirko didn’t blame him.

“I’m so sorry!” he quickly apologized, “there was an emergency at the ER and I had to respond immediately!”

“ _COULDN’T YOU FUCKING TELL HIM THAT?”_ Mirko had to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid getting permanent damage from Andrés’ screaming, “ _He called me at three in the fucking morning drunk and crying saying he fucked up!”_

Mirko’s heart sank in his chest. He did not think Martín’s reaction would be this strong.

He did not think at all.

“Are you with him right now? How is he?”

“ _yeah i’m with him. He cried himself to sleep an hour ago.”_

“fuck.”

“ _yeah, fuck. When are you finishing your shift?”_

_“_ In an hour or so. Is it okay if I come see him when I leave the hospital?”

“ _He’s knocked out cold but yeah you can come. Just text me when you get here.”_

“Okay, I will.”

_“And Mirko,”_ the use of his first name rather than ‘Helsinki’ threw him off guard, “ _if you hurt him, I hurt you. Got it?”_

_“_ got it.”

“ _good.”_

With that he hung up and Mirko was left anxious and guilt ridden in his seat.

He needed to make things right with Martín. No more dancing around and no more confusion.

The hour passed by agonizingly slow and he wasted no time checking out and grabbing a taxi to Martín’s apartment, all traces of fatigue gone.

He texted Andrés as soon as he reached the apartment building and found him waiting by the open door of Martín’s apartment with a severely displeased frown painting his features and arms crossed at the chest.

“sorry i’m late.” He said by a way of greeting. Andrés gestured for him to go inside, following him and closing the door gently behind him.

“he’s still asleep.” Said Andrés as he made his way to the kitchen, fetching Mirko a glass of water and some muffins, “you haven’t eaten yet, I presume?”

Mirko shook his head and accepted the water, “No, but I don’t really feel like eating right now.”

Andrés hummed in understanding and placed the plate of muffins on the table.

“look,” he started and Mirko braced himself to receive the best friend talking down, “Martín is a once in a lifetime occurrence. You won’t find another person like him in your life. If you waste your chance with him then you’re just fucking stupid.”

Mirko agreed with every single word.

“so, what i’m trying to say is-“ whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by Martín’s voice coming from his bedroom door, “Helsi?”

Mirko’s chest seized at the sight. Martín’s hair was sticking out in different directions, eyes red rimmed, dark circles around his eyes.

It was all his fault.

“Hey.” He breathed, and immediately made his way to Martín, putting arms around his smaller body and engulfing him in a bone crushing hug.

Martín made a small squeaky sound of surprise before wrapping his arms around Mirko’s neck and breathing in.

“i’m so sorry I didn’t answer you.” Mirko said, refusing to let go of him just yet, “I was called in for an emergency and it took _hours_ and I should’ve told you before I went and I shoul-“ his panicking tirade was cut by Martín tightening his arms around his neck and shushing him, “it’s okay! i’m the one who should apologize for freaking out I should’ve realized you worked in a hospital and all sorts of things happen there.”

Mirko pulled back slightly to face him, arms still wrapped around him, “it’s not your fault, Martín, please don’t apologize.”

“it _is_ my fault for automatically assuming you hate me.” He gave him a sad smile that twisted a knife in his heart.

“Listen to me.” Mirko said, leaving his hold on Martín’s waist to grab his face with both hands, “You’re entitled to feel whatever you feel but never for a second think there’s anything in this world that would make me hate you.”

“not even what I said about Andrés?”

“what? That you were in love with him? I can’t really blame you because he’s gorgeous, I would’ve fallen for him too if I were you.”

“damn right.” Called Andrés from behind them, and they both swiveled around to look at him disbelievingly.

He was sitting cross legged on the chair behind them, watching and twirling his pocket knife.

“oh my god, Andrés, _go away!”_

“Alright, alright, i’m gonna be in the kitchen if you need me.” He gave them both a pointed look and left.

Mirko turned back to find Martín flushed with embarrassment.

“so uhh,” he started, “you don’t hate me?”

Instead of replying, he leaned down and kissed him.

“does that answer your question?” Mirko asked him with a small smile playing at his tingling lips.

“I don’t know I think I need more convincing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“yeah.”

“well come here, then. I can convince you all morning.”

Martín pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and kissed him hungrily, stumbling back together into the room.

They fell on the bed, still entangled together, and broke apart from their kisses with laughter.

“Hey!” called Andrés from the kitchen, “No funny business unless i’m invited!”

They shared a look and broke into laughter, Martín hiding his face in Mirko’s chest.

“You don’t want any ‘funny business’ right now, do you?” asked Martín when they calmed down.

“Martín, baby, I just came back from an eight hour shift. The only thing I want right now is to fall asleep with you in my arms.”

Martín’s lips stretched in a big smile that lit up his tired face.

“going to bed with you sounds great to me.”

He let Mirko settle in and went to talk to Andrés, before coming back, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed with Mirko.

“Helsi?” he asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“Mirko.”

“what?”

“my name. it’s Mirko. Mirko Dragic”

“Oh. Well, Mirko Dragic. I’m glad I met you.”

“Me too, Martín Berrote. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter! it’s finally done! it’s a bittersweet feeling for because i never expected to get attached to this au so much but here we are. thanks for going on this journey with me and giving me encouragements and keeping me going. your support really meant a lot.  
> there will be a couple of more one shots in this universe but for now this one’s finished :’)


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